Darkness Descends
by WriKai
Summary: Follows season 11, sticking with the Kylie/Cas theme, but you know... Season 11... Casifer... Will also prominently display Crowley in later chapters.
1. Ladie's Choice

I was inside my own head, inside my own mind. I knew Castiel was still out there, still killing me, but I wasn't actually there for it.

Funny, he'd been so sure and so worried that Dean would come for me, but look at who's fingers were around my neck.

Of course, this wasn't his fault. Rowena had caused this, the attack dog spell. She had cast it, and even had the audacity to offer me training afterwards.

 _If you survive, of course_. I reminded myself. _So why am I here? Am I dead?_

If so, this didn't look like what I remembered from the last time (I almost laughed at how casual that idea was, the last time I'd died. This must be a weird feeling for the Winchesters.) There was no family time, no happy memory, no anything. So if I was dead, and this wasn't Heaven, then where was I?

Was this supposed to be my hell?

Were witches destined for hell?

Was I even enough witch to get that automatic one-way ticket?

"You're not dead." I heard my own voice behind me speak. I turned around, or at least I did in my head, and saw… well… Me.

Me in a simple white dress.

"Well, not yet, anyways." The other me conceded.

"Then where am I?" I asked. "Are you supposed to be my subconscious or something?"

"You're inside your own mind." The other me answered. "And no, I'm not your subconscious. Think of me as… The you that wants to live. The you that can live, and that can make sure we both make it out of this."

"Weird way of looking at it, but alright." I shrugged. "So I want to live. Great. Let's live."

"Not so fast." A different voice behind me spoke up, also female. I turned around and saw a tall woman, with kinky hair just a few shades darker than her skin. "You've got the option to die, also, if you want."

"Why would I want to?" I asked, feeling myself cross my arms. "And who are you? Another projection of my desires?"

"No." The woman answered. "I'm a reaper. The name is Billie, by the way."

"Reapers have names?" I asked, uncertain of what else to say. If a reaper was here, in my head, then I must be pretty on the verge.

"What, you think we all just go by Grim?" She asked in response. If I'd had a physical body, I would've probably made multiple awkward movements.

"Leave her be, Billie." The other me said, stepping forwards. "She already chose to go with me, and she's sticking with it, right?" The other me turned to look at me, but I didn't answer. "Right?" She prompted again, offering a hand.

"She's curious, now." Billie filled in. "Curious as to all her options, and why I'm here."

"She doesn't have time to be curious." The other me argued. "In a few minutes, I'll stop being an option, and it's either Billie or a shitty re-run of _Mostly Ghostly_."

"Why are you here?" I asked Billie, ignoring myself. I already knew why I wanted to live.

"Because you are almost dead." Billie answered. "Castiel is killing you, right now. He's already crushed your windpipe, which will be a long and difficult recovery. Among other injuries your ribs are currently puncturing your lungs, the back of your skull is broken and bleeding, you've got a broken nose, destroyed kneecap, " I felt myself wince. "And a broken heart."

"That's why you're here." I stated. Billie just nodded.

"When you watch the man you love beat the ever-loving life out of you, no matter the cause," Billie shrugged. "Something changes inside a person, every time, and makes them wish they were dead so they didn't have to watch anymore."

"But you love Cas!" The other me argued. "And you know how much this will destroy him if he's the one that kills you."

"You're going to die anyways." Billie stated. "If not today, then much later down the road, and there's no guarantee that you'll spend that life with Castiel. He may decide to leave you after this, feeling too guilty to be around you, or time could just wear away at your relationship until you're both done. What then?"

"Then she lives still!" The other me argued.

"And what if your plan kills the angel?" Billie asked. I turned to the other me, who had suddenly gone quiet.

"What's your plan to let me live?" I asked.

"The angel grace inside of you is enough to expel him, and give you time to write an angel-banishing sigil." She answered. "It'll blast him back to a corner for a little bit, and you'll have the opportunity to call someone, to get to a hospital or something."

"And what if that kills him, or the outright power kills you as well, or both of you end up dead?" Billie asked. "What then? I'll still reap you."

"It's his own grace, it probably won't kill him." The other me argued. She didn't look certain, though. "But it's worth trying!" I watched her flicker for a second, and felt imaginary walls close in on me. "You don't have time. You need to choose, and choose now!"

"I will always be your eventuality, Kylie." Billie reminded me. "And Castiel's. Can you live with the possibility of hurting him, and possibly killing yourself along with him? Can you live with the idea that if you die from his own grace, he'll blame himself?"

"He'll blame himself no matter what." The other me reminded me. She flickered again, and her dress suddenly had rips in it. "Choose. Now."

I looked between myself and Billie, and made my choice.

"If I die from doing this, will you still be the one to reap me?" I asked Billie. She nodded. "Then I'll either see you in a few seconds, or later on down the road." I told the reaper, gripping my doppelganger's hand tightly.

I was awake in an instant, and could still feel Castiel's fingers on my neck. Everything within me began to warm up, getting hotter and hotter until it felt like I was boiling inside. I found a way to place my hands on his chest, pain and fire coursing through me until the moment I screamed.

My hands glowed with blinding white light, and I watched as Castiel flew off me and in to the wall behind him. For a moment, I caught sight of burn marks on either side of his chest.

He slumped against the wall, motionless, and for a terrifying moment all I could think was that I'd done it. Billie had been right, and I'd killed him.

When he stirred, I felt relieved. Then he opened his eyes, still red and burning with anger, and I knew I had to act fast.

I reached behind my head, feeling for the blood that was there and pooling around behind me. I coated my fingers in it and began tracing, hoping and praying that I was drawing it right. I couldn't turn my head to see the sigil, I had to keep my eyes on Castiel as he got up and once more began advancing, this time an angel blade in his hand.

I tried to get words out, tried to plead with him, but all that came out was a barely recognizable form of his name. He kept advancing, as though he didn't even hear me, and maybe he hadn't.

I just kept drawing the sigil, hoping it would be enough.

He raised the blade above his head just as I hoped I'd finished the sigil. I tried to get out some words, an apology, but couldn't.

I could only slam my hand down on my own blood, and watch as Castiel disappeared in another burst of white light.

From there, I laid back for a moment, feeling myself about to fall out of consciousness again. I barely remember scrabbling, grabbing a phone. Mine. I somehow still had the damn thing, and only by sheer luck was it not utterly destroyed.

I called Sam first, then Dean. No answer from both of them. I could barely croak out the word help, so I tried to send a text with the word.

I wasn't certain if it'd worked, but I hoped it did.

That was when I started fading again, back in to my own head. _This is it_. I thought. I wonder if Billie expected this, or imagined I'd last longer.

I faded in and out for a long time, continually trying to get a hold of Sam and Dean, or even just crawl to the door and scream for help. I didn't see Billie again, so maybe it wasn't my time yet. Maybe I was going to live.

I wasn't certain how much time had passed when I heard the voices of people behind me, commenting on something or other. Someone would be pleased to see me.

Uncaring hands grabbed me, lifting me up and sending pain throughout my whole body. Somebody shouted for me to shut up, and socked me in the face.

I was out for the count after that.


	2. Hospitalization

I woke up in a hospital, with the smell of sterilization and whiteness and cold all around me.

When I tried to move my head, I couldn't. There was a brace around my neck. I could only see whatever I could move my eyes around to look at. Out of my peripherals, I just barely saw my leg hoisted in the air, with a cast and metal brace on it going all the way up to the middle of my thigh. I could feel similar wrappings all over my upper torso and midway down my stomach. I could move my arms, though, and when I did I saw my hands both wrapped tightly in gauze. When I tried to ask a question, ask for a person, just speak and use my voice, it was as if I'd triggered a lever for acidic sandpaper to run it's way across the entire interior of my throat.

Then I remembered everything, and my heart monitor started beeping like a bomb was about to go off.

A doctor came in shortly after that, explaining everything that had happened. I'd been carried in by a portly British man. He'd given them my name, and a number to call to contact my next of kin.

Then he'd left, vanished without a trace.

Doctor Marlowe explained to me that I was in bad shape, that I'd been in a coma since I'd arrived.

That had been almost a week and a half ago.

I'd had no visitors. My "next of kin" hadn't answered their phones, and the doctor had left a voicemail. She offered to call them again, if I wished, and I did.

Then I was alone. No Sam or Dean or Cas or even Crowley, whose motives for bringing me here I couldn't even begin to understand. No monsters as far as I could tell, or any way for me to use magic.

I was all alone.

Dean and Sam came to see me two weeks later. I was in no condition to leave the hospital then, not even in the slightest. I knew the full extent of my injuries at that point. On top of all the bruises and cuts and lacerations I had a severe concussion, almost every single one of my ribs had been broken, nose was destroyed, collarbone broke in three separate places, lungs had been punctured, one kneecap broken, the palms of my hands (as well as many of my interior organs) severely burned, and my back had been broken in four places.

It was a miracle that I was alive, and would be another one if I ever managed to walk or speak properly again.

It hurt to write or communicate, but I had a whiteboard and was determined to do it anyways. Fill me in on details. **What's been going on?** I wrote slowly and with the barest hint of legibility, but they understood.

They explained the Darkness, and how Crowley was looking for her. They explained that it had been unleashed when the Mark had been removed, how they might have killed Death, and how there were a lot of people that had been infected by something from the Darkness being let out.

Sam looked a little uncomfortable at that part.

 **Cas?** I wrote next. I couldn't help it. I had to know.

"Cas is back at the bunker." Dean said.

 **Is he ok?**

Dean didn't answer.

 **Did he get hurt?** I wrote out, very afraid for a moment. The I erased it, another fear rising. **Did I hurt him?**

"No." Dean said, letting out a small sigh. "No, you didn't."

 **Good.** I let out a small smile with the word. I held back tears, held back a single question. On one hand, I wanted to see him, to talk with him, to try and talk this through with him. On the other hand…. I couldn't help it. I kept seeing his face with those red eyes and that awful smirk bearing down on me. **Talk**.

"About what?" The boys asked simultaneously.

 **Anything.** I requested, laying my head back for a moment. I was afraid to close my eyes, afraid of what I would see in my mind. Would it be nothing but darkness? Would it be Billie coming to take me again?

Or would it be Castiel, smiling at me like things were normal, right before his eyes turned red and he tried to kill me again and again.

Dean had made an attempt on me before, but it hadn't given me nightmares like Castiel had.

 **Please.**

Dean and Sam thought for a moment. I heard the sound of chairs scraping and feet scuffling as they moved around to get themselves comfortable.

"Alright, so, Sam is off in college at Stanford," Dean started. I listened intently as I heard the story of how Dean broke in to his brother's apartment that he'd shared with his girlfriend. I had already heard of what happened to Jess. Cas had told me.

Next they moved on to the pranks they pulled on each other during a hunt. Sam putting super glue on Dean's beer bottle. Dean leaving a spoon stuck in Sam's mouth as he slept. The clock that made this annoying laugh that they used to lure the Ghostfacers away. The fake Hollywood call to make them leave again.

Then the time the Trickster had trapped them in TV Land, turned Sam in to a car.

Then when they had to stop a witch and a warlock, who were married to each other and having a killer marital dispute. Literally.

Then about the fairies that were pretending to be aliens.

Then about when they met Charlie, during the Leviathan attack I'd connect to Dick Roman so long ago.

They just told me stories, and probably didn't stop until long after I'd fallen back asleep.

I still saw Castiel, though, but this time as he choked me I could just barely see Billie standing behind him, shaking her head and offering her hand.

I was half-tempted to reach for it, but woke up before I could.


	3. Miracles Are Bullshit

Sam or Dean, or sometimes both, visited me every day in the hospital. Sometimes they couldn't stay long, other times they were there when I went to sleep and still there when I woke up.

They kept up on my progress with the doctors, learning what they could inevitably do to help me and how, as well as keeping a continued status on how long I'd stay in the hospital. The doctors kept telling them it was a miracle I was alive, a miracle I had survived my injuries; they just kept repeating that damned word, " _miracle,_ " and every single time I kind of wished I could speak so I could tell them to stuff it, to stop saying that damned word. I could see Dean and Sam wishing to do the same, too.

Dean apologized, at one point when it was just him, for calling me a monster. I told him there wasn't an apology needed. He hadn't been him, it had been the Mark.

At one point, though, the doctor called Dean and Sam out in to the hallway so she could talk with them in private. I could hear the loud arguments coming from Dean and Sam after a minute, though, and knew that whatever it was it wasn't good.

Sam came back in a few minutes later while Dean stayed outside with the doctor. **It's not good, is it?**

Sam shook his head. "Don't worry about it. We'll fix you up no problem."

 **Tell me.**

Sam shook his head again. "There's no point in telling you when we'll make sure you're OK." At this point Dean had stopped shouting outside, but still hadn't come in yet. Was he on the phone with someone? Did he not want to come back in?

I couldn't tell.

 **Please, Sam.** I pleaded. That was when Dean finally walked in.

"What do you need?" He asked.

"She wants to know what's up." Sam answered, giving Dean a hard look. "I told there that there was no point, since we would find a way to fix her, right?" He asked.

Even though they were both grown men, for a second I could see something different. Instead of two mean, I saw a little brother double checking with his older brother to make sure things would be OK; looking for that reassurance and hope for him to latch on to.

Dean nodded, turning to me. "We'll fix you up, Kylie. Don't worry. This isn't the first time we've called in some favors, and it won't be the last."

Then they told me that they were going, and wouldn't be back for a few days. They said to have the nurse or doctor call them if I needed anything.

And then they left.

The nurse told me the truth after they left – that my body wasn't healing as properly as it should to all the injuries. I would live, no problem, but there would be a catch.

I would never walk or talk again.

My spine wasn't healing properly, nor my throat or vocal cords.

"Miracle" my ass.

She started talking about options after that, like learning sign language and getting a wheelchair and typing things on a keyboard that would speak it for me like Stephen Hawking. That didn't change anything, though.

I wasn't going to walk or talk again.

Never.

When the nurse left, I wanted to throw something. I wanted to get up and pace, scream at the sky, run from that room and everyone in it, run from the "miracle" it was that I was alive and the reality I was faced with.

I wanted to move and speak and scream and punch and just… Just be ALIVE, be a person that's a part of the world instead of passively watching it pass me by.

But I couldn't. I couldn't do any of that.

According to the doctors, the "miracle" girl would never do any of that again.

All I had for me was life, being alive.

I cried, unable to do anything else, and prayed silently.

 _Castiel, I need you. I thought. Cas, I forgive you, I promise, but right now I need you and I don't know what I'm going to do. I just need someone here, Cas; I just need you here as my boyfriend to sit with me and hold me and tell me everything would be OK, or even tell me what the key is about._

I looked over at the key in question. It was on the desk beside me, along with the other few personal effects that had been with me when I'd first been admitted. Phone, wallet, a few crumbled bills, and the key.

I wondered quietly what it was a key to, and what Castiel had been planning.

Afterwards, I wondered if I would ever get the chance to learn.

Castiel didn't come, though. I waited, doing my best to turn my head and stare at the door for hours, but he didn't walk through. When I went to sleep and woke back up, he wasn't there either.

I prayed again, but he still didn't come.

I did my best to not let that hurt.


	4. Timeline B

After that hunt Dean and Sam visited less often. They went on another, calling to leave voicemails with Doctor Marlowe occasionally so that I knew they were still alive and well.

Castiel still didn't visit.

I still prayed to him, though. I still prayed and prayed and hoped and begged that he would at least show up so that I could talk with him about this, so that we could try and handle the situation like adults.

The doctors brought in a psychiatrist for me to talk to a few times, to see where my mental state was at. I didn't need a doctor or psychiatrist to tell me that my psyche was pretty fucked up, though.

I didn't need them to tell me I had anger or abandonment issues, or that I was becoming depressed.

I knew all that already. I just didn't care.

One time, I heard arguing outside my door. It was Dean, shouting at someone.

"You should go in there!" He pleaded.

"No." The other person denied. It was Cas. He was here?

"Why not?"

"Can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't."

"WHY?!" Dean was furious with Cas. Cas was just as angry, but was keeping his responses short. He did that to avoid saying things he might regret later.

"DID YOU SEE HER, DEAN?" He shouted. There went his self-control. "DID YOU SEE HER?"

"Yeah, I did." Dean answered. "I have been seeing her. The only one that hasn't seen her is you."

"I CAUSED THAT."

"It wasn't you, man."

"But it was MY HANDS." His voice was shaking. "My fists. My feet. My body. I watched myself do all of it, but wasn't in control of my actions. I understand now what it was like for Jimmy when I took his body as a vessel. I should never have come down to earth. That lack of freedom, having to watch myself and know what I was doing was wrong but being completely unable to stop…" Castiel's voice trailed off.

"You should see her, Cas. I don't just mean look at the bruises and cuts and the physical aspect of it all – I mean just go in and act like a caring boyfriend. Go in and give her a hug, bring her some hot tea she likes, try and talk with her."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?!"

"She'll flinch away from me, Dean." He said. He sounded so…. Tired. "I'll go to touch her, go to hug her or kiss her or comfort her, and all she'll see is what I did to her."

"She'll understand, Cas."

"She prays for me, at night." Castiel told him. "And I can hear the sorrow in her thoughts. I can feel the tears in her mind and know that I caused that. Not just a spell, but ME."

"So you're just going to give up?" Dean asked, outraged.

Castiel didn't speak for a long while. I heard footsteps moving away from the door, while someone else slid down the doorway.

Maybe an hour later, Castiel walked in. He didn't say anything, just stood there, watching me. Hey. I wrote, giving my best OK smile.

He still didn't say anything, just stood there staring at me. You're better. I wrote next, noticing the lack of red eyes or animalistic parts.

He still didn't speak.

Please say something. I requested.

"I should have you forget this." Castiel stated. "Forget all of this. Forget you met me, met Sam and Dean, forget everything about hunting. You'd be safer if you didn't remember, like with Ben and Lisa." I didn't know who they were, and I didn't care. I wrote NO as fast as I could, showing it to Cas and hoping he'd get it.

"You're not safe in this world, Kylie. You're not safe around me." He said, stepping towards me. "I'm sorry."

He placed two fingers on my head, and I was out cold.

When I woke up, though, I was still in the hospital and… I could still remember everything.

I looked at my body, and then stopped.

I was looking at my body.

I was moving my body to look down at myself, and nothing hurt. Nothing was wrapped up anymore.

I was fine.

I grabbed my things and left the hospital quickly, only stopping for a moment to see where I was at. I called Sam first, excited.

And I got his voicemail.

"Hey, Sam, I'm about to call Dean but… Yeah. I'm talking." I said. "Cas came by and fixed me up and… I'm worried about him. Gimme a call back or tell Dean to answer. I'm making my way back to the Bunker now."

I called Dean next, feeling that excitement dwindle, and got voicemail again. I left him a similar message, and decided to make one more phone call.

I called Cas, and all excitement left me.

"We're sorry, but the number you dialed has been disconnected, or is no longer in service. Goodbye."

Goodbye.

I fought back worry and anger. This was Cas. He wouldn't just… leave me, right?

Right?

I hotwired a car and started making my way back to the Bunker. The hospital I'd been at was maybe an hour or two away, so I got back in a short amount of time. Dean and Sam were just coming out as I got there.

"Guys!" I jumped out and ran to them, excited. The looked surprised to see me, and were stiff when I hugged them. "I called you two earlier. Cas came by to fix me and just… Left. Where is he?"

"He's gone." Dean answered.

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?" I asked.

"He left this morning." Sam supplied. "Said he was leaving for a while."

"Did he say where?"

"Yes." Dean answered. I waited a few moments, but he just stood there, silent.

"Aren't you going to tell me?" I asked.

"No." Sam answered. "We're not."

"What do you mean you're not?" I asked.

"Cas asked us not to tell you." Dean answered. "And we promised to respect his wishes."

"Well, when is he coming back?" I asked. Dean scrubbed a hand down his face, looking pained.

"Look, Kylie, we didn't want it to happen like this." He said. "I mean, right now, I wish Cas had just talked to you at the hospital."

"Well, he didn't, so someone please explain to me what in the hell is going on." I requested, starting to become frustrated.

"Cas left." Sam said.

"I know, you already said that." I reminded him.

"No, as in he left." Sam repeated. "Left you."

I stopped, staring that the two, dumbfounded. "You mean…" I wasn't certain how to say the words. I wasn't certain if I even wanted to.

I could hear Rowena in the back of my mind. "You can't trust men, nor their promises. And whatever surprise or idea that the angel may have in your head, or whatever future you think he will share with you, it's not going to happen, sweetie. And then witchcraft will be all that you have left."

"He said he couldn't do it anymore, and that he was leaving." Dean said. "Kylie, I'm sorry."

I ran past him and Dean, in to the Bunker. "CAS!" I shouted, furious. Sam and Dean followed, but I stayed ahead of them. "CASTIEL YOU GODDAMN COWARD! SHOW YOURSELF!"

I ran all around the Bunker, screaming for Cas to come out, to handle this like a goddamn adult, to not just abandon me like some second-rate boyfriend.

But Castiel was gone.

Dean and Sam left me be to pack my things. I couldn't tell if they wanted me to leave or not, but I honestly couldn't care. At that point, I had to get out. I had to leave.

Goddammit, I was going to find Cas and we were going to fucking talk about this.

I had the key with me, maybe that would lead me somewhere.

Two weeks passed, and I found where the key led to. It was an apartment in Manhattan, Kansas. There were flowers, wilted and untouched, and a few personal things. Pictures of us together, here and there. A few books on a bookshelf that he would know I liked. And on a shelf, sitting next to a picture of us, was a shitty-looking little box, made out of discarded wood and nails I had known nobody would notice gone. Castiel's name, written on the front in black sharpie, with my own handwriting serving as it's font, stood out like a neon sign to me.

That was when I broke down, when I sat in there and just cried for a while before doing the only thing I could think to do – call Mrs. Tran again, invite her over, and hope she wouldn't mind being mom again for just a little bit. She came, sat down with me in the apartment, made some home cooked dinner, and talked with me like a mom would.

Four months passed since Cas left. I was living in the apartment on my own, now. Kevin's mom had only stayed for a week or two, helping me figure out how to get on my feet. I'd killed vampires, exorcised demons, and banished ghosts while keeping a slightly unsteady job in the local newspaper, writing for a self-help column. I even sent Sam and Dean postcards, sometimes, to let them know where I had been and that I was still alive.

But I hadn't seen Cas.

I'd tried, I was following every lead I found or half-believed in, but it was nothing. Dean and Sam called a few times to check in, but I knew that they wouldn't often. They knew were he was, and they knew I would ask.

I knew they wouldn't tell me.

Eleven months passed since Castiel left. I moved out of the apartment. I couldn't stay there any longer. I threw back together my homeless bag, got on a motorcycle I'd bought myself a few months back, and just drove out of there. Out of that town, out of that state, and back to California where Danny used to live. I rented out a cheap apartment nearby where hers had been, and got back to work hunting and writing. As far as I could tell, Dean and Sam had figured out what to do about the Darkness. They stopped asking me for spells or help a long time ago, and the world hadn't ended, so I figured life was good for them; that they didn't want me or need to check in on me anymore, because they had each other and were doing fine with that.

In all fairness, though, I'd stopped sending them postcards too around the same time.

One year and three months passed since that first day. I was still searching. I ran calls in my spare time, finding an authoritative tone to my voice that I had only had with my brothers. People believed I was whatever they needed me to be, whether I was FBI, CIA, NSA, or whatever other form of enforcement they needed. Whenever I couldn't run calls, I was hunting, and looking for Cas still. He was never with the Winchesters, not anymore. I didn't ask Crowley for any help, I didn't want to call. I still wasn't certain why he'd taken me to that hospital in the first place, or why he'd never called to try and collect a favor.

I got a note on my door when I came back one day. Familiar handwriting, handwriting that belonged to someone I hadn't seen in a while.

It was from Castiel, and it had two words on it.

Stop looking.

That was the day I started going by Kai again.

One year and ten months passed since he left. I kept trying to send him prayers, asking him why he left, begging him to come back, telling him I missed him and forgave him. Sometimes I swore at him, called him obscene names for leaving, for abandoning me like he did without another word or a better memory.

"Hey, Cas." I started. "It's been one year, ten months, and twenty two days since you left. I'm still looking for you. Still can't say I'm sorry for disregarding your request, but you know me. I don't do the orders thing well.

"I still forgive you. You're an angel, and angels are supposed to be all about the forgiveness road, right? Shouldn't my forgiving you the first time have been enough of an indicator that you should've come back?" I was crying now. I couldn't help it. "I can't tell if it's because you don't forgive yourself or something else, because a person who seeks self-redemption doesn't run from the person that they hurt, and right now you're hurting me, Castiel. You're hurting me with every day that you don't come home.

"Don't you remember how we used to share drinks, randomly, before we started dating? When we were both human and homeless? It never mattered what we were drinking, I think I was just happy for the excuse to just be close to you. I remember it was raining one day, and I was waiting for you outside. It was raining, and I didn't care. You didn't hear me knock on the window to the shop you were in. You were in the back at the time, and the door had locked behind you. Just a stupid kid with automated locks. You came out with the poor terrified kid, saw me shivering, and just let him go.

"You shared your jacket, and in exchange I shared my damn tea with you, and I was happy. You looked a little happy, too." I shook my head, remembering him smiling. I didn't see the red eyes anymore. Only the times he'd smiled, the times he'd been happy. "At least, I thought you were. I guess you might not have been as happy with me as I was with you.

"I'm not going to stop looking. I'm sorry, but I'm not. All I'm asking for is physical proof that you're still alive at this point, ok? A note doesn't count. All I'm asking is to see you one more time. Then I'll leave, if you want, but I just want to see you again, Cas." I bowed my head and shook it, wiping the tears away. Crying wouldn't help me, would it?

"Good bye, Castiel." I muttered. "Please don't be dead."

I waited a few moments, looking around, hoping that he might finally show up, might finally hear me and understand. After a little bit, I let out a sigh and went outside. There was a little girl, crying in the street. It was raining outside, and her father didn't have an umbrella. I gave the father my umbrella. The father looked grateful, and the child happy yet confused. I simply smiled before walking back in to my motel room.

That was the last prayer I sent to him.

It was obvious by now that he wasn't going to answer.

Two years since the day Castiel left, I finally returned to studying magic on my own. I hadn't spoken to Sam or Dean for almost a full year at this point, not since I'd gone back when they got sick. They were surprised to see me, even more surprised that I didn't ask about Cas, I think. I'd changed, I knew I had, and Sam and Dean had as well. I would still get the random email on a possible case nearby me, but other than that… It was as though I didn't exist to them anymore. Not really.

I was just too different from them anymore, not someone worth risking it all for anymore, it I had ever been.

So instead of keeping track with them, I kept up with Mrs. Tran. She was the only family I had left, at that point, and I was the same for her, since Kevin had been boosted up to Heaven (according to her). I showed up at her house once a month, all nicely dressed like the daughter she never had, and we had lunch together. She always cooked, and sent me home with leftovers. I was happy on those days, pretending to be Mrs. Tran's daughter, and her pretending she was my mother. In a sense, though, neither of us were pretending. She was a mother without a kid, I was an orphan without a family.

So we were each other's family.

I didn't have anyone else for that, though. I'd given up.

I'd stopped looking for Castiel. I'd been searching for him, and he hadn't answered. He'd explicitly asked that I stop looking.

So I gave him his wish, and switched my focus to learning how to properly wield my witchy abilities. Studying magic was more difficult without access to the Bunker and it's books (there wasn't a chance in Heaven, Hell, or anywhere in between that I was going to ask Dean and Sam for help), but anything is possible when you find the right people.

So I found a witch, one that was eager to not die, and had her train me in what would work against different creatures and beings. She still died afterwards, of course, but I had training at that point. I understood magic better – what different herbs tended to be used for categorically, easy to use spells versus difficult spells, etc. cetera.

I also learned how to control the angel magic in me. It was still there. Faded, yes, but still there. I could use it to move things without touching them, and in extraordinarily difficult circumstances I could actually heal someone. It almost knocked me out in the process, but I could do it. Just not often.

I healed Mrs. Tran when she got cancer the first time, and she lived a few months longer after that. Then life happened while I wasn't there, and she died. Car crash.

I hoped Billie was the one that reaped her, and that she was in Heaven with Kevin.

And finally, I hit the three-year-mark after Castiel had left, and I got one more lead, on accident, about where he was. I wouldn't have even chased it down if I hadn't actually physically seen him.

I was standing across the street, in the shadows of an alley, as he got himself a hot dog and a coffee. He hadn't seen me, or if he had he hadn't recognized me. I couldn't blame him. Long, red hair pulled back in a French braid. Long black coat. Rain all around us. It was always raining in Portland. I really couldn't be surprised if he hadn't seen me. The person I was three years ago probably wouldn't have recognized me, even.

In truth, I was happier he hadn't seen me.

He hadn't seen the vampire trailing him, though. The one that spilled its secrets out of fear and then was silenced to keep my presence quiet, to help me keep Castiel and my own cover safe.

They saw the angel in town, and decided that the whole horde of them would easily be enough to take on him. Hell, those vampires were the reason I'd been in Portland in the first place, they'd just given me an extra reason to do my job well.

God, there were so many of them. If only they didn't have a fucking GUN.

I made sure they didn't kill him, though.

I died in that same spot I'd finally seen him, bleeding out from a shot to the heart, but I took every single one of those blasted vampires down with me.

I died with a final prayer on my lips, a final attempt to see if Castiel would care, would come, or even knew I was there.

I died knowing that he wouldn't be there, and not feeling the least bit resentful.

I died saving so many people from these vampires.

I died doing what was right, protecting those I cared about, even if they stopped caring about me a long time ago.

And as I died, I saw a familiar outstretched hand before me. Billie's.

She was smiling kindly at me.

She stayed smiling as I took it, not even thinking about my choice.

Billie had been right, all along – right about Cas, right about me, right about life. All roads were going to lead to her eventually, and it was about time I accepted it.


	5. Timeline B (Castiel's Perspective)

I was sitting in a little restaurant, sipping some awful coffee at the bar as I read the paper. I skimmed to the personals and tabloids, always looking to see if I would find the ad that killed me. For that past three years, two months, and four days, I had been lucky.

Now, I wasn't. Not anymore.

 **FOR SALE: HUNTING RIFLE**

 **.22 CALIBER**

 **25 YEARS OLD**

 **ENGRAVING ON HILT SAYS KAI**

 **IF INTERESTED, CALL THIS NUMBER:**

The number listed was Dean's, surprisingly, though I knew that she hadn't talked to the Winchesters in a long time.

This was how Hunters would sometimes alert each other through newspapers of the passing of other Hunters. They would always say how old the Hunter was through how old the gun was, same caliber as always, and the engraved name on the hilt was the name of their fallen brother or sister. The number listed was who to call if you wanted to get information on what happened, reminisce, find a place to meet and maybe visit some sort of makeshift grave, even though all hunters were given a funeral pyre to prevent more ghosts. If anyone not a Hunter called to inquire, they would just say that the gun had already been sold, and leave it at that.

All of that information came and went through my head as a single thought prevailed above them all.

Kylie was _dead_.

For the longest time, I just stared at the ad. I saw her smiling at me. Saw her sleeping beside me, happy. Saw her face illuminated by candlelight, by moonlight, by the light of one of our rooms. I saw her looking at me with hope as we faced something awful, with kindness as she cleaned my wounds and wiped the sweat off my face, with content as I sat beside her and read the book she had over her shoulder.

I had kept my angelic powers off for so long, it took me a while to find the mental switch once more. There were prayers, many from Dean and Sam and even a few from Mrs. Tran. But mostly, they were from Kylie. Kylie crying, asking why I'd left. Kylie angry, a bottle of beer in her hand with many empty beside her as she shouted obscenities at me. When had she started drinking? Kylie fully fine, fully awake, fully sober, just pleading and asking questions and sounding so old, so wise, and so, so, so tired. "Castiel? Castiel please. I'm… I'm done saying I'm sorry. I'm done beating myself up for it. And I'm done being angry at you as well. I'm done blaming you, blaming Rowena, just placing blame on anyone and anything that I think might make me feel better to blame. I'm just tired. Completely and utterly tired, and I don't think I can remember a time from after you left that I wasn't. I really can't." She gave a hoarse laugh at that one.

"I'm tired, Castiel. It makes me feel so tired to feel so many different conflicting emotions. It makes me tired to simply FEEL these emotions again, or any for that matter. It makes me just so tired and worn out and DONE. Do you understand that feeling, Castiel? Like you're so tired and dead and done inside and you don't know what else to do except just give up. I'm not going to give up like that, I'm going to stay alive as long as I can, and I'm not going to stop looking. I'm not certain I would be ok with myself if I stopped looking. It feels like one of the only things left I have to hold on to. I don't think I even have Sam and Dean as family anymore. I guess that… I was only important to them as your girlfriend, that they only tolerated me when I was useful, and now… Now I'm not useful to them.

"So I have nothing, now. Nothing but determination to find you and have a goddamn conversation with you. I've missed you, I'm not going to stop missing you, and I'm not going to stop looking for you. I'm sorry. You're all I have left as well. But if you're gone one day, just dead, and I learn that I stopped looking for you when I could've found you and maybe done something… I can't accept that. I don't think I could live with that.

"So I'm not going to stop looking. But I'm going to stop feeling, I guess, for a while. It's all just a little too much right now. So, I guess… Don't be dead just yet, alright? I still have to find you first."

That was one of the ones that broke me the most. I could feel her being done. I could feel her tiredness, feel how absolutely done and broken she felt. She was just very done with the world and everything around her.

That one was from almost two years ago.

They all stopped almost seventeen months back until there was one, maybe three weeks ago. "Cas, I tried." She was saying. Her voice, it was so clear, so pained, so weary. "I tried to find you. All I can do now is hope you're still alive. I hope you found happiness wherever you went.

"I hope you know that you were the last person that I wanted to see, that I wanted you here with me. I miss you so terribly, and now… I'm dying again, if you would believe it. I'm bleeding out on the pavement of a back alley in Portland, and my last wish, my last prayer, is simply to see you again." There was a pause, and I heard a shaky, wet cough. "I'm sorry that I stopped looking, but I hope you know that I never stopped being in love with you." I could feel her breathe out one last time, then all was silent. The message was over.

I panicked, and started searching with my mind, looking for her mentally. I tried to latch on to her brain wave frequencies, latch on to her physical and emotional aura, ANYTHING that was her. I pulled out the pictures of us I still kept, trying to pull any sort of leftover energy from it to track her from.

It'd been three years. There was nothing, now.

I tried to track the frequency of her last prayer to where and when it had been, and saw the blood in my mind's eye. She'd been shot, straight through the heart, and was bleeding out. There were maybe twenty or thirty dead vampires littered all around her. She hadn't been one of them, though. She'd still been human. She'd been human, and she'd managed to kill that many vampires. She'd been hunting, and still looking for me. I knew where she'd been. She actually hadn't been that far from me when it'd happened. She'd still been trying to find me. She had probably been less than twenty minutes from where I'd been.

I'd had no idea she was so close. I'd known she was in the area in general, known that she was on so many hit lists from different creatures, but that close, with that big of a hive…. I'd been tracking those same vampires. They'd disappeared, and I hadn't been able to pick up the trail after that.

I teleported to the spot, abandoning the food establishment. I couldn't go back in time, but I could get places now. That was how I'd evaded being found by her for so long. The police tape was falling off, an open and shut case, but I could feel it. I could FEEL where she'd laid down, where she'd said her dying words.

Hell, even if I couldn't feel the remnants of her dying prayer, I would still know where she'd been. Vampire blood turns to ash once it's hit with the sun, and Kylie's…. Hers still stained the concrete where she'd died.

There was ash and dust everywhere else except that one spot, that spot that was still stained dark, even though the body was long gone and most likely burned by now. I went and kneeled at the spot, placing my fingers on the dark stains to try and extract some last thought or memory that had come with it.

All I saw was my own face, smiling a kind smile.

I felt myself break inside. I just… I had left to keep her safe, and she was still dead. She was just… Gone. I felt a physical piece of me shatter inside, screaming for all the world to feel within their souls.

Suddenly, I found someone by my side. When I turned to face them, I saw a familiar face, with brown hair and a brown bit of beard.

"Castiel," Chuck breathed a sigh of relief as I stood. "I thought you dead again, this time for good."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I heard your name in my mind and felt you crying out in agony. I was afraid that you'd…." I knew what he meant. He thought that I'd taken my own life.

"I feel as though I should be dead." I replied. "I can't believe she is gone."

"She died protecting you." Chuck said. I froze, feeling every part of my being right down to the sub-atomic particles just… Tense in anger and guilt and fear.

"What do you mean?"

"Those vampires… They were tracking you, trying to kill you." He explained. "She'd found you by accident, found where you were, and knew that they were planning a strike against you, and soon."

"You're lying." I said, barely holding in my anger. He may be God, but had to be lying. There was too much ash, too much debris, too much that I didn't want to believe.

"She either could warn you or stop the vampires. She thought you wouldn't want to see her again, so she chose to save you instead of see you."

"How do you know this?!" I demanded, feeling absolute and sudden fury. "What proof do you have that what you say is true?!"

Chuck just stood his ground, as calm and unmoving as the ocean on a sunny day, and just let me be enraged. Let me be furious with him, with his words and his calmness and… and his truth.

He was God.

Of course he knew.

Once I had calmed down, Chuck snapped his fingers, and the scene changed.

We were standing in the rain, in this alley, and across the street I knew I would be there, buying a hot coffee and a plain hot dog that cost a grand total of three dollars. Kylie had been right, I hadn't seen the now-obvious vampire watching me. A young-looking one, early twenties female with an iPhone and a constantly shifting glance to watch me.

I processed all that in the three seconds it took for me to examine my surroundings before I focused on the person standing in front of us. Five foot two, wearing a long black trench coat with the collar flipped up to shield her neck slightly from the rain. She had no umbrella. Her hair, a mahogany red, was pulled back in a tight braid that trailed around her collar and over her shoulder.

I looked over at Chuck, a million questions waiting to be asked. "You can't be seen or heard." He told me, waving a hand. Sound stopped, rain stopped its descent, and the busy street lined with cars and people was put on pause. "Feel free to go look."

I sprinted to get to her frozen form. She was staring at where I was across the street, frozen as I began to walk away. She had yet to focus on the creature that was already starting its movements to follow me further. She was smiling, looking at me with…. Hope? Happiness? Fear? Uncertainty? Nervousness? Relief? Somehow, the expression was all those expressions at once. A bittersweet look from bittersweet memories.

Her face bore new scars. One on her left cheek, small and thin, and another directly under her hairline on her forehead. Her eyes, though bearing the bittersweet look, were also hard and unwavering. The Kylie I'd known three years ago wouldn't have hesitated to move, but at the same time wouldn't be so calloused in its position. No creature would be able to stare her down now.

Her lip was split slightly, but not bleeding. Just a wound beginning to heal. She was wearing red lipstick, a complement to her hair color, and her mouth was opened just slightly in her smile; that smile of disbelief and gratitude and reprieve and one that can only be summed up in the words "well, damn." I couldn't believe she was wearing that sort of kind, honest smile while looking at a cruel being like myself.

She also bore slight mascara and eyeliner, just enough to appear maybe five years older than she truly was. And colored contacts. Her eyes had been a beautiful gold when I'd known her. I could see the horrid brown contacts in her eyes that she wore to disguise herself. Dean and Sam would've been proud that she'd thought of it.

I wished I was able to see her eyes for the color they were.

She wore a plaid overshirt under the trench coat, and under that a plain purple cotton shirt. Jeans, dark but not black, and a well-built pair of tennis shoes completed her clothing ensemble.

I'd seen her, out of the corner of my eye, while I was buying. I'd noticed her gaze, and done nothing but write it off as a gawking human. It had happened before. I hadn't recognized the face, the hair, the eyes, the appearance. How could I? I had been running and avoiding her for three years.

There was no denying it now, though. It was her. The girl who was destined to die in less than twenty-four hours after seeing me.

It was Kylie.

Chuck snapped his fingers again, and rainy day turned to rainy night. Always raining in Portland. I turned, and Kylie was behind me, lying on the ground, surrounded by bodies. One of them was smiling weakly, mouthing the words "got you" as it sat propped up slightly on a dumpster. Kylie threw a machete spinning at the creature. It was decapitated before it could blink, the gun falling limply from it's hand.

Kylie wasn't trying to stop the bleeding that was coming from her chest, wasn't trying to slow it or mend it or do anything. I moved closer to see her staring at the stars, working to keep from screaming.

"Cas." She whispered. "Castiel."

I felt my heart stop inside me.

"Castiel, please, please hear my prayer." She begged. "Cas, I tried. I tried to find you. All I can do now is hope you're still alive. I hope you found happiness wherever you went."

The words hit me like a freight train, and I fell beside her as if I had been punched in the gut. I couldn't say anything. I had a thousand words I wanted to tell her, and they were all stopped up in my throat.

"I hope you know that you were the last person that I wanted to see, that I wanted you here with me. I miss you so terribly, and now… I'm dying again, if you would believe it. I'm bleeding out on the pavement of a back alley in Portland, and my last wish, my last prayer, is simply to see you again." She let out that shaky, wet cough, as she turned to look to her sides, and I started to cry again. She'd been looking to see if I would appear. Even when I hadn't seen her for years, she still believed in me, still believed I might come for her if she was on death's door. She'd still had faith in me, and I had let her down. There was a quiet sigh I hadn't heard before as she continued. "I hope you know that I never stopped being in love with you." She closed her eyes, took her last breath, and then it was done.

Kylie was dead.

I had just watched her die.

"I'm right here." I whispered quietly, finally finding my voice. I tried to take her hand and hold it, but my own passed right through it. "I'm here, Kylie. I'm right here and I wasn't happy. I was never happy without you, never happy with leaving you. I thought I was protecting you." I was crying now, there was no doubt. "I tried to protect you and you died almost three hundred yards from where I was sleeping. You asked me to be there for you and I should have. I'm sorry Kylie. I'm sorry." I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. "I didn't stop loving you either. I love you, Kylie. I love you and I shouldn't have left you and now you're dead and I can't do anything about it because it was my fault."

Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa.

My fault. My most grievous fault.

My fault she was dead.

My fault she died taking on thirty vampires.

My fault that she hadn't thought I would want to see her.

My fault she had been in Portland.

My fault she thought I had been happy without her.

My fault that I hadn't been here for her.

My fault.

My most grievous fault.

With one more snap of Chuck's fingers, we were back in the present, back to a present I couldn't change, where Kylie was dead, had died in the spot we were standing in now.

"Father," I took a deep breath, calming myself as much as I could. "Did I make a mistake?" I asked. Chuck just looked at me like I was an idiot.

"YES." He answered, emphatic. "Castiel, you didn't just make a mistake. You SERIOUSLY failed on this one girl. You probably ruined a large portion of both your life AND hers. Do you understand that?"

"But, I thought that relations between Angels and humans were forbidden, just as Nephilim are abominations."

"No, are you kidding me?" He asked, shaking his head. "That was something the other archangels spouted off after I left, their way of rebelling against me without getting caged like Lucifer. And even then, that shouldn't have been a cop-out excuse for you to leave her. You were in love with this human, Castiel. You still are. I can feel it. She was too, but she kept looking for you. She kept looking until she couldn't look anymore, and still proudly died to save you. But YOU, on the other hand, what have you been doing, Castiel?" Chuck asked.

"I've been…." I could feel a thousand justifications coming to my mind, but none of them fit. I couldn't just lie and throw all that I felt for her away like that. I…

I had ruined everything by running and being scared, ruined everything by trying to keep her safe.

No, that last part was bullshit. I was just scared. Scared and terrified and afraid that I might hurt her, and that I might have to face the fact that I had been used to hurt her.

"I've been a fool." I replied, hanging my head in shame. I felt tears falling down my face lightly. "I miss her, Father. I miss her so much."

"It's alright, Castiel." Chuck said, patting my back awkwardly. I let the tears fall, unsure of what else to do. I kept crying quietly. I wanted to call Dean, to ask him to yell at me for being such an idiot. I wanted to go to where they might have a false grave for her and pay my respects. I wanted to find her in heaven, go and beg for her forgiveness and repent for everything I had done.

I wanted to go back and fix it all.

"Come on, Cas." Chuck said, laying a hand on my shoulder. Within a second we were transported to the Bunker, with Sam and Dean sitting at that familiar war table like two old and tired men. Dean's hair was still as short as Sam's was long, and both were beginning to get hints of grey in their hair at what… Late thirties? Early forties? Either way, it was too soon for them to be greying and looking so tired in their physical appearances, as if the weight of the world was once again on their shoulders.

They were looking over different papers when they looked up and jumped. "Cas!" They shouted as I rose. Then they saw the other angel. "Chuck?"

"Don't focus on me right now, though. Focus on Castiel." Chuck responded. "I'm just here to help."

That was when they noticed my face had tear streaks, something they had never seen me bear before. "Cas, are you alright?" Dean asked.

"Is it true?" I asked, hearing how ragged my voice was. I didn't care about what I'd just seen. I didn't care about what Chuck had just shown me. For a moment I wanted so desperately to cling to the idea that she may be alive, that someone else did what I couldn't and got to her in time. "Is she…"

Dean and Sam hung their heads, and I felt my last chance at hope finally fade in to nonexistence. "Yeah. Yeah, it's true. There was a huge hive of vampires. Thirty of them. She took them all down." Dean finally said.

I hung my head with them, feeling tears fall silently down my face once more. "Tell me what I missed." I requested after a moment, choking back a sob. I had to know. I needed to know. I wanted to know everything I'd missed out on over the past three years, everything that I should've been here for but wasn't because I was a coward. I just…. I had to know what had happened in between.

"She…. She sent us postcards at first." Sam started. "She kept us updated on where she was, and what she was hunting. When she stopped sending those, she ran Bobby's call network. You wouldn't believe how good she was at finding information about different things."

"And she used to always made sure to drop a line every now and then, and make sure we were ok. That we were doing our own laundry and still eating and hadn't drunk ourselves to death like old men." Dean added. "She heard how Sam and I had both gotten sick after a year, and came back in the middle of doing I don't even know what to make sure we were both alright. She even braided Sam's hair then, for entertainment and relaxation purposes. She was here for three weeks, making sure we were all good and healthy."

"We weren't actually sick for three weeks." Sam pointed out. "Maybe a week and a half, tops. Strep throat is a bitch. But she stayed and went on a hunt with us after that week and a half, doubling the length. That was the longest we'd seen her in a year or so. We… we had an argument after that, a big one, and lost touch."

They told me about how she'd colored her hair purple, and red, then blue, and finally red again. She settled on that red color, that muted mahogany that the boys swore up and down looked a bit like vengeful fire in the sunlight.

They told me about how she'd gotten so focused on her hunting, how she'd become such a good knife thrower that she could hit a piece of paper in complete darkness just by hearing it wiggle. She learned how to finally hit a target with a gun, and hit the center every time.

They told me about how she'd taken her ride of choice as a motorcycle.

How she'd told them about the apartment, and left them with the key in case they needed a safehouse. I hadn't even known that she'd found out about the place.

How she'd saved so many lives, and would always leave her number for a person or a group or a family or even children to call if they ever needed her again. How she would go straight to help them whenever she'd get those callbacks, rare but always treated as though they were more important than anything or anyone else at that moment.

They told me these stories that could only be described as Kylie's life. Things she had done. People she had saved. Ideas she had come up with to make hunting easier for the rest of the community.

They told me about how she'd forgiven me.

How she'd never stopped looking for me, as far as they'd known.

How she hadn't ever faltered in her belief that I was still a good man.

I asked them if she had a false grave made, and they took me to it. It wasn't too far from the bunker. I remembered catching her when she fell out of the very same tree her false grave was put near. It was raining, that day when she'd slipped.

This time, the sky above us was clear and sunny and it almost made me cry even more, because that was her favorite type of day. A sunny, clear day full of promise.

I kneeled by it for the longest time, just crying. I wished I had flowers.

Dean and Sam left me be to grieve, but Chuck stayed by my side for the longest time. He waited until I was done. I looked up at him, knowing how disheveled I looked.

"What do I do now?" I asked, so unsure as to what to do. What was I supposed to do now? I had ruined so much…. And now I didn't even have a chance at fixing it.

"What do you want to do?" Chuck asked in response.

"Can I see her?" I asked. Maybe if I could visit her in her heaven, I could explain myself, straighten things out, apologize. I might be able to do SOMETHING.

"When do you want to see her?" Was the response.

"What do you mean?" Chuck's question was confusing. How did he not get that I wanted to visit her now, to apologize to her in person.

"Do you want to see her now, while she's dead," he started. "Or would you rather go back to when she was alive?"

"What do you mean?" I asked again, rising. I could feel anger again, frustration and sorrow and anger all balled in to one emotion. "Chuck," he cut me off, hands raised in a calming manner.

"Relax." Chuck said. "I'm serious. Do you want to go back?"

"But…"

"Castiel, I'm God." He reminded me. "I've put you back together enough times, and watched you enough times to know that you were the closest any angel has ever gotten to pure happiness, to living the life I always envisioned for my children – creating their own paradises on Earth. You were the only one who began to understand what I was getting at."

"How far back can I go?" I asked, hoping that I could go back to before I hurt her, to stop Rowena from casting her spell.

Chuck knew what I was thinking. "I can't change that part. That was already set in stone. I can take you back to when you decided to leave. That's as far as I can go."

I didn't even hesitate to agree to that in my head. I could still make things right. I could still fix things. I could SEE her, APOLOGIZE to her, tell her EVERYTHING I'd missed my chances to say. But….

"What if she won't forgive me?" I asked. My voice was shaky.

"You know she already did." God answered. "She will, eventually, it will just take time and working with her."

"Why are you doing this?" I finally asked. I almost hadn't, I didn't want to, but I had to know. Why would God want time changed? Didn't he set everything in stone long beforehand?

"Because there was a crossroads, when the separation of you two could have possibly happened." He answered. "Personally, I was rooting for the other outcome, but when this one happened I decided to let it be, for now." He shrugged. "You are the only one of my children, in a long time, that has truly understood free will and what it means to fall in love, what it means to understand humanity enough that you would rather be among it than the other angels. Even after you left her, you didn't return to Heaven if you could help it." I stayed silent, listening as my father explained himself to me, something that I doubted would happen again. "You chose to stay on Earth, and keep tabs on the girl. I mean, even I couldn't write a story like the one you two could've shared otherwise." He laughed, just for a moment. "I can't say it will be an easy story, Castiel, nor will I do this a second time if you chose a life without her again. But," he paused, and I could see him focusing hard. "I can tell you that she's important, like the Winchesters and you are. She has a higher purpose in the universe, but not when she's been taken out of the main storyline." I wasn't certain if I followed what he was talking about, but I listened anyways. "I'm sorry I can't tell you more, there are things even I cannot be certain of sometimes."

I took a moment to think, letting it all sink in. If I chose to go back, I would get another opportunity to be with her again, but she would be in danger again. I remembered what we went through with Amara, with Lucifer, with everything. I remembered being thankful, on more than one occasion, that Kylie was out of the fight and living a safer life.

I thought about this, about whether I could live with making the choice to be selfish, and chose her.

Then again, maybe if I stayed with her she would live longer than three more years.

"If I go back, can I stop her from dying?" I asked. I had to ask. Chuck just shook his head.

"I can't tell you that, Castiel." He reminded me. "Remember, free will is in the package for a reason. I can't control what choices she will make after you go back, nor yours. I can only hope that you make good ones."

"Will I remember all of this?" I asked next.

"Do you want to?" I thought about that.

That was a question with multiple meanings; not only asking if I wanted to remember, but if I wanted to go back - if I was certain that I wanted to go back.

"Faintly," I answered, making my choice. "I want to remember how I feel, right now, with her…." I couldn't say the right word. "Gone. I want to remember the pain and regret from my mistake. The rest… I believe it would not be wise for me to remember the entirety of this."

He nodded. "Wise decision, Castiel." He agreed, smiling. Then God kneeled down, and touched two fingers to my forehead.


	6. Timeline A (Castiel's Perspective)

Dean was talking to me. He was arguing with me. "So you're just going to give up?" He asked, outraged. I thought about it for a minute, and was flooded with emotions. Angst. Guilt. Regret. Pain. Sorrow. Self-hatred. I couldn't leave her. Leaving her would be the worst mistake I made. I wouldn't be helping her. I would be hurting her.

I would be hurting myself, and hurting Kylie.

I never wanted to hurt her. Not again. Especially not intentionally, not when I knew that her pain would be the outcome.

Without another word I turned from Dean to enter the room behind me, HER room, and close the door behind me just as quickly. I had to be with her, NOW. If I didn't, I would be making the worst mistake I possibly could.

And Kylie was awake, watching me. I saw the bruises I inflicted on her. Her throat, her face, her wrists, her whole midsection was wrapped like an Egyptian corpse, and her leg was high in the air wrapped just as tightly. She wasn't staring at me with hatred, though. No hatred. No fear. No repulsion. Just an expression that conveyed how unsure she felt. But she was alive, and feeling emotion, and just sitting there, watching me.

She didn't say my name, and I remembered that she couldn't, that at this moment I couldn't hear her voice. The thought of a life without hearing that voice again was what broke the dam. I didn't care if it was the same voice or a voice altered by an attack, it was still HER voice. Her beautiful, sweet voice.

I had to fix it.

I took maybe three steps to her bedside, and pressed my hands upon where her stomach would be. She flinched at the suddenness of my movements, but stopped when my hands began to glow.

Within a second, every injury of hers was healed. There wasn't a scratch left on her, nor bruise nor broken bone nor any possible ailment that I could heal. Kylie looked up at me in amazement as I took off her neck brace. "Cas," she said my name, and I felt my heart swell as she put a hand to her throat in surprise. Then she looked at her hands, the hands that used to hold burn marks, and the astonishment on her face continued.

"Please," I started, feeling tears fall on my face. Once again, for some reason I was struck with the sudden fear of not seeing that face again, or hearing that voice, or having to go a lifetime knowing that it was my fault, all my fault, that her voice or her face or that any part of her might never be seen again. My fault that she may not be happy anymore. My fault that she wouldn't have her humanity anymore. If I lost her, it would be all my fault.

"I don't want to lose you." I said softly. "I don't want to be gone or to hide away from you in shame and guilt. I don't want you to be gone and to not have another chance. I don't want you to be…" I choked on the word. Dead. I couldn't say it. I wouldn't say it. "Be gone from me and from this world. I don't want to cause you pain. I don't ever want to touch you in a way that harms you again, or make another action that would. I don't know what to do to fix this, but please, please at least grant me the permission to try. I don't know what I could do in a world where my inaction caused your pain, your sorrow, or even your death."

There it was. That word. That word I absolutely felt as though would tear my soul in two if I had to use it to describe Kylie, had to use it to explain what I had done to her. That word that made me know that if she were to die, the angels that were left would think me dead as well, and know of how much I loved her.

"Please tell me that you're not dead, that I'm not hallucinating or dreaming and didn't do anything more to hurt you than I already have. If you wish for me to leave, then say the word and I will, but I just… I have to know that you're alive." I closed my eyes, bowing my head. "Please, I will do whatever you ask of me in an attempt to mend what I have ruined. Just tell me that I didn't kill you, Kylie." I whispered. "Please don't be dead."

There was a long silence, and I felt the most agony I have ever experienced. Please, Kylie, say something. She was there, alive, and had been staring at me even when I'd walked in, but I had to hear her say it. I had to hear her say that she was alive, that I hadn't killed her. I just… I had to hear her voice telling me something, anything besides my own name. Hearing her say my name, say Cas, might only be a part of a nightmare.

But never in my nightmares would she ever comfort me.

I had to make sure.

There was a soft sniffling noise, and I automatically looked up at her. Kylie was crying, just staring at me and crying and so unsure as to what to say. "No, no, I didn't want you to cry," I said as I rushed to her side. "Please don't cry. If you want me to leave I will, but I don't want to be the one to cause you to cry."

"Cas," she whispered quietly. "I'm alive, alright? I'm here. Don't ever think that you being gone will make things better."

I felt guilt, again. I should've been here sooner. I was a coward, a damned coward. Why couldn't I have been here sooner? Isn't that what a man was supposed to do for the woman he loved? Be there for her? "I won't leave you like that again." As I spoke that promise to her, I knew that I would follow it through as long as I lived. I sat beside her, and reached out for her hand as a reflex. She flinched away from me again, and this time I retracted my hand just as quickly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to flinch." She muttered. She had stopped crying, as I had, and was just staring at her own hand.

"No, no, it's alright, you have every right to." I assured her. "It's a perfectly natural reaction. Please, just take your time adjusting however you need to."

"Still, I shouldn't have flinched," I shook my head again, trying to silence her without causing that reaction from her again.

"No, no, no, don't even try and say that any of this is your fault." I replied. "You have no fault at all. I want you to understand that you have absolutely no blame on you. It was me who caused this, and I won't allow you to try and use this to make you belittle yourself."

"Then," Kylie was having a hard time speaking, but she wanted to keep talking anyways. This was important to her. "You can't blame yourself either. It wasn't you, nor your fault. It was a spell. You wouldn't have done that if you were you." She started coughing, then, most likely from her lack of vocal usage.

"Let me get you some water," I started to get up, but she gripped my arm.

"Promise me you won't blame yourself either." She demanded.

I stared in her eyes, and felt all those emotions again. Guilt. Pain. Fear. Anxiety. Regret. Sorrow. In my mind's eye, I imagined her, just for a moment, dead in my mind's eye. In three years, if I left, she would be dead, and it would be my fault.

I had to do everything I could to make it up to her.

"I promise." I told her. And I meant it, too. Whatever it took to fix my mistakes.

Whatever it took to make sure I didn't lose her.

I sat back down beside her, unsure of what to do. "Is it alright if I try to touch you again?" I asked. I had to ask.

"I can't promise that I won't flinch again." She warned me. "Is that… alright?"

"Whatever you're comfortable with, Kylie." I replied. I moved to lightly shift a bit of hair out of her face. She flinched again, slightly, and I paused.

"No, it's alright." She said. I pushed it behind her ear the rest of the way, and she smiled. I leaned in to kiss her lightly on her forehead. She flinched farther away, closing her eyes, and I moved away. "I'm sorry. I just…"

"No, it's alright." I mirrored her words, smiling. "Take it at your own pace. I'm merely grateful that you are even allowing my chance to attempt to fix my error." She glared at me, and I quickly backtracked. "Sorry, I mean aid you in your recovery." She smiled at that, then scooted away as she grabbed my hand.

"Here, help me get all this shit off of me." She requested, motioning to the bandages that still covered the rest of her. "I'm tired of this hospital. I'm just… I'm tired." She said simply. "Stay with me. Tell me stuff. Help me get out of all these bandages and get that uncomfortable brace off my damn leg."

I agreed without question. I wasn't going to lose her. I wasn't going to lose her. I would make sure she was fine. I would work every day to fix this and protect her.

So I talked. I told her whatever I could think of as I helped her remove her bandages and return to her normal clothing. I'd already told her everything before, everything that was pertinent to my being with the Winchesters, so instead I told her the details, the bits of the story that wouldn't matter otherwise. I told her about my brother, Gabriel, and all the time I'd spent with him. I told her about the time I out-drank a fellow hunter, on more than one occasion. I told her about Bobby, and how he'd taken me in. I told her stories of times long ago, when things were a little simpler and clean cut. We were good. They were bad. Times before things got messy. I told her about my "Pacifist Stage" as Dean called it. The first time I'd successfully shot a gun. I even told her about how when I'd first gotten this vessel, how it was so clumsy and unfamiliar that when I first flew to meet Dean and Bobby I'd been so frustrated, and I'd fallen across the roof and rolled and landed at the ground in front of the door. I'd been so frustrated I'd made most of the lights explode.

"Do you still have the key I gave you?" I asked her after we'd finished taking off her bandages and were walking to the car. She fished around in her pocket for a moment before pulling it out, and I smiled. We weren't too far from the apartment, a half-hour at most.

It may not have been the perfect timing to show her, but then again when would the perfect timing be?

"What's it for?" She asked, handing it to me. I smiled, taking her hand for a moment as I looked at her.

"I wanted to follow through on a promise I made you a long time ago." I answered.

She looked so surprised when she looked around the apartment, like she couldn't believe it. I just stood there and watched her walk around, watched her take in the little details that I tried to put in for her, or even see some that I would miss.

I watched her see the little bank she'd made for me, over two years ago, sitting on a shelf next to a picture of us I didn't even think she knew I had.

That was when she turned to me, and I could see tears in her eyes.

I moved towards her slowly, and this time she didn't flinch. She didn't flinch as I hugged her, but instead hugged me back, and hugged me tightly.

She didn't flinch as I pulled away, so I could look in to her eyes and see the happiness in there.

She only flinched when my hand moved towards her face, but I accepted that. I accepted that this would be a long and difficult road.

It would be worth it for her, though.

For her, it would all be worth it.


	7. Moving In

A few weeks later, we moved some books from the Bunker to the apartment, on the grounds that I was using them for research, that I would make digital copies of them, and that I would return the books ASAP.

"I still don't get what's wrong with the Bunker." Dean muttered, helping me haul some books in to Castiel's car. "I mean, it's a nice enough place. Lots of space and room, and all the books are here, and you have a kitchen," he let his voice trail off after that.

"I left a crap ton of homemade food in the fridge," I promised. "And some other stuff in the freezer with cooking instructions."

Dean's face brightened up considerably after that. "Wait, what about," I cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

"Beer is still in its same spot, three pies on the counter and two more in the fridge, and two extra bags of coffee by the coffee maker." I stated. Dean smiled, clapping me on the shoulder after we put the boxes in the back seat.

"Thanks, Kylie." He said. "You're the best."

"I know." I replied, giving a half-humble shrug with it. He just laughed. "You guys headed out on a case soon?"

"No, nothing has shown up yet worth following, and we're both still tracking down Amara." Dean answered. I nodded, feeling a little sympathetic towards the elder hunter. I knew he'd been having a case of cabin fever. They needed a case soon, or at least Dean needed a hobby. Sam and Castiel came walking up a second later, laughing and talking with each other.

"Alright, I think we're good!" I commented, walking over to Cas. He put an arm around me with ease, careful to make sure I knew what he was doing and that his hand didn't come too close to my face or neck.

It was progress. Definitely good progress.

"Alright, so, you guys are always free to come back and stay if you want." Sam promised. "Dean will probably call in about a week wanting food."

"I left, like, a whole fridge and freezer full of food." I commented. Sam gave Dean a pointed look.

"Hey, it's good food!" He answered, giving Cas an envious glare. "You screw this up and I'm coming for you personally."

"I believe I'm making a good effort on not 'screwing things up.'" Castiel commented, giving me a glance. I nodded an affirmation at him, and he smiled. Dean kept up his glare.

"Fine." He finally said, raising his hands in submission.

"Alright, so everyone understands the drill?" Sam asked. I nodded.

"Castiel and I are going to keep searching for Amara and Crowley." I said. "And hopefully find a way to lock Amara back up, if need be. Cas is running angel knowledge in case they get clued in on something first. You two are still doing hunts, I'll run calls if calls are needed once I get the phone system set up, and…" I trailed off, trying to remember if I was missing something.

"And you two stay off hunts for a few weeks." Sam finished for me. I snapped my fingers, looking up at Cas.

"Right. I knew I was forgetting something." I muttered. Cas just smirked. He knew me too well.

"We mean it." Dean added, wagging a finger at both of us. "The closest I want to see you two get to hunting is either running research or watching a hunting show." I laughed, and Castiel stared at Dean, confused for a moment. "It's TV Cas, come on." Dean commented. "How have you been on Earth this long and still not exposed yourself to TV?"

"If I recall, I did watch a show with you two involving a pizza man and a babysitter." Castiel countered. Sam rolled his eyes as Dean sighed.

"Porn doesn't count, Cas." Sam stated. I put a hand to my face quietly, trying to disguise laughter with a cough and doing it poorly.

"You guys will call though, right?" I asked, once I settled myself a little. "If you need help or if Amara," Dean cut me off before I could continue.

"You guys leave Amara to us." He stated. "When the time comes for it to be an all-hands-on-deck situation, we'll call, but for now…" He shrugged. "You guys are the closest I'm probably going to ever witness a Hunter and an Angel get out of the life, or at least make an actual life out of it. We want you guys to enjoy it, and enjoy being with each other." Sam snickered a little, and Dean nudged him. "Go live a life together, guys." He encouraged.

I gave them both hugs before getting in the passenger seat of the car, and Cas did as well. Dean stopped him before he got in, though, handing him something to put in the inside pocket of his coat. Cas looked at him strangely, and Dean just nodded. "Trust me." I could barely hear him say.

Castiel got in the car anyways, starting it up. "What was it that Dean gave you?" I asked.

"Nothing of import." He answered. I cast him a sideways glare, and he just smiled. "Don't worry about it." Castiel said, leaning over to give me a short kiss.

The drive wasn't long, it was only to the Little Apple, maybe 3 hours max. Just far enough where Cas and I had our own place, our own life, but close enough where in case of an emergency Cas and I or Dean and Sam could be there fast.

So Cas and I unpacked, him taking the books and me taking the clothes to put away in our closet and dresser.

Our closet.

Our dresser.

In our room.

I was not going to enjoy saying that word for a while, saying "our" things. "Our" apartment. "Our" kitchen. "Our" home. "Our" life.

Our life. Together.

Ours.

I loved that word.

"I'm gonna go check to see if there's anything left in the car." I told Cas, walking back towards the door.

"There isn't anything left in the car." He assured me, walking behind me. When I turned and saw him, I flinched slightly.

"Sorry." I apologized, running a hand through my hair. "Still working on that."

"It is nothing to apologize for." Cas said, moving a hand slowly to cup my face. I kept myself still, working hard to make sure I didn't flinch.

When I didn't, and his hand wound it's way to it's familiar place in my hair, I smiled. "Yes!" I breathed the word out, closing my eyes and leaning my head in to his hand.

Then I felt the other one resting on my waist, and flinched slightly. "Dammit." I muttered, opening my eyes. Castiel's hands retreated, and I shook my head. "No, no, try again, I'm determined as all hell." I said, closing my eyes. "Go for it. Seriously. I'm going to get over this damned thing."

"Kylie," Castiel said my name softly, and I could hear his hesitation. I shook my head again, forcefully.

"I won't live a life of fear, Cas." I stated. "I won't let any of this keep me down."

"Then at least let's go sit down." He stated, and I felt a tug on my hand. I opened my eyes and looked down to see him grasping my hand, gently but firmly. When I looked up, he was smiling at me.

"Alright." I agreed, pretty freaking happy. I hadn't seen the movement, hadn't flinched when it happened.

I could do this. I could definitely do this.

We sat down, and figured it out. We figured out how to be… How to be us, without my flinching or his fear of scaring me.

It wasn't perfect, still. Not even close.

But it was a better start – the start of a new life for both of us.

The start of a life I hoped I would never leave.


	8. Apartment Life

A week or so later, and Cas and I were comfortably settled in. I'd found an easy side job, just writing for the a self-help column of a local paper.

Sam and Dean were out on a case, finally. I'd sent them the information. It was a pretty thin lead, but it was a lead nonetheless. Sam had apparently told Dean, and Dean had absolutely jumped towards it like a dog to a treat.

Cas and I had been running information for them and other hunters, checking in to possible nearby cases with similarities. Cas decided to call Sam, let him know about our progress.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Cas assured Sam over the phone. "We were just reading up about the other cases in the area that you're headed to. Neither of us have found anything yet that matches." I heard Dean mutter something or other over the phone, but I couldn't quite make out the words. "I can help." Cas offered.

"If they need something, we can drive or I can try a different angle on the research or something." I offered. Cas shook his head at me, shrugging.

"Alright." He acquiesced, and I knew the option of us headed out had been shot down. "What's a 'Netflix?'" Castiel asked a second later. I laughed.

"I got that one, guys!" I shouted, hoping they could hear me through the phone. Judging from the faintest bits of laughter coming from the technology, I figured it was a safe assumption that I had.

"All right. Just call if you need anything." Castiel told them. He hung up, turning to look at me. "What is a Netflix?" He asked.

"Well, I just finished up answering this poor girl's question on how to incentivize her kid to study better," I commented, standing up and walking towards the angel. "And emailed a hunter out in Florida about a possible case not too far from them, so if you're in the mood for a short break," I shrugged, wrapping my arms around him as he stared down at me, curious and… was that excitement?

"I may be amendable to that idea." Castiel stated, leaning in for a short kiss as his own arms wrapped around mine.

We ordered takeout that night, and I spent a good portion of the day introducing Cas to my favorite shows, and how to work a Netflix account.

"And if we want to do Dean a favor and mess with Sam," I commented. "We can just add Gilmore Girls to his favorites list again."

"I don't think Sam would like that." Castiel commented, his arm around me. I laughed.

"I know, but Dean promised that each time I did it he'd give me five bucks after Sam figured it out." I answered.

Dean texted me the information that they knew so far the next day, and I started hitting the books I had at the apartment. I'd made a decent amount of progress in maybe half of the first shelf of books, making both digital copies of the originals and then afterwards making two more copies, one encoded for myself and one in English if the text wasn't already written in the language.

Once I had an idea on what they might be dealing with, Cas called Dean again. "I'm mostly confused." Castiel stated first, putting the phone on speaker. "I'm not sure how orange correlates with black in a way that's new."

Dean's response was immediate. "Step away from the Netflix." He stated.

"My apologies." Cas said.

"Sorry, Dean!" I added. "He asked me the same question earlier."

"It's okay. We've all had a binge." Dean admitted. I wondered for a moment what shows that Dean and Sam binged in their free time. "You guys find anything in the lore?"

"Well, there is a creature that feeds on hearts and blood," Cas started, but Dean interjected quickly.

"A were-pyre, you might say?" Dean asked, his iconic 'I'm so hilarious' voice making an appearance. I rolled my eyes as he continued. "Come on, I know you two wanna say it."

Cas looked at me, and I shook my head.

"In the lore, it's referred to a 'Whisper.'" Cas finished.

"That's lame." Dean commented.

"So was your name." I added, just to rile him up. Dean was about to argue, but I talked over him. "Silver will kill the thing, no problemo."

"But you may want to decapitate it, just to be sure." Cas commented. I smiled at him, continuing to read from the book.

"All right, sounds good." Dean agreed. "I'm at the crime scene now. It was staged. The body was dragged. There were no signs of struggle."

"The body was moved there to look like, what, an animal attack?" I asked.

"Yeah, maybe. It was pretty sloppy, though." Dean answered. "You, uh . . . What else you got on these things?" I nodded, pulling Cas over to look at a page on Whispers I'd already transcribed to English while I kept working on stuff I still hadn't translated yet.

"Listen to this." Cas said. "Whispers have a fascinating history. They're… They're . . ." I pointed to the spot on the page that I wanted him to read to Dean, and he nodded at me in thanks. "Actually, they were once believed to be in the bloodline of werewolves, but in fact, they are more similar to demons. They, uh, they got their nickname from how quiet their attacks are. Because of their stealthiness, they've, uh, lived on the fringes for centuries. Although there were several that were hunted and killed during the Salem witch trials," I cut him off, finished translating the second page.

"Wait a minute, babe." I told him, flipping my laptop around to show him what I got. "Okay, according to this," I said, taking over the phone. "Whispers only feed during the solar eclipse, which doesn't line up at all with the timeline right now. The next solar eclipse isn't until…" I looked up at Castiel, and he shook his head.

"Not for a long whole. So, uh, Dean, we don't believe what you're hunting is a Whisper after all." Cas shrugged, and I went back to the drawing board of figuring out what in the hell the boys were dealing with. "It must be another creature of some kind. Okay. Fine, I'll say it. Maybe it is your so-called 'Were-pyre.'" Castiel admitted.

"I can't believe you just said that." I commented. Cas just smiled at me and continued.

"But to be honest, I have never heard . . . Of a creature with that name." Castiel stopped when we heard a noise coming from the background of Dean's end.

"Dean, what was that?" I asked, looking from my computer to the phone. We both listened as Dean groaned, followed by gunshots going off.

"Dean? Dean, are you all right? I hear gunshots. Dean! Dean?"

"Dean!" I shouted at the phone. I heard a car door open and close for a moment.

"Ah, it turns out I did shoot the deputy." Dean commented.

"Wait, Dean, is everything…" Dean cut Castiel off quickly.

"The deputy was a Were-pyre. It's all right. Silver bullets worked." He answered.

"No, Dean, listen," I said, pulling back up the information on Whispers. "According to the lore, the timing is way off. The next solar eclipse in North America… How long did you say babe?" I asked, turning to Cas.

"Years." He answered. "So, Dean, it can't be a," Dean cut him off again with a quick "hang on," and I watched Castiel roll his eyes at the phone.

After a few minutes, we heard Dean get back in the car. "Scratch that. You gotta cut off their…" His voice trailed off once more, giving Cas the opportunity to inform him that the creature was, in fact, NOT a Whisper. "Yeah, I'm starting to get that. Give me a second." Dean said. "All right. Th- All right, that . . . Okay. Smile, asshat." His voice was farther from the phone, but more than likely still in the car with it. "Alright, Cas, Kylie, you there?"

"Of course." We both said at the same time. I heard Dean gag on the other end. "What's going on?" I asked.

"Well, whatever it is, silver slows it down." Dean answered. "I'm sending you a picture right now…" There was a pause, and my phone chimed with a new text from Dean. "Of its fangs. I-I've never seen anything like it. See if there's a match in the lore, would you guys?"

"We got it." Castiel assured him. Dean groaned.

"You two are way too domestic for me." He stated before hanging up. Castiel stared at the phone for a moment before me in confusion.

"'Too domestic?'" I asked him, raising an eyebrow. In return, he raised one of his.

"'Babe?'" He quoted questioningly in response I shrugged.

"Sorry. I was just trying it out." I admitted. "Didn't like it?"

"Not certain quite yet… babe." He said with a smile. I laughed.

"Dean was right!" I exclaimed, leaning back. "We ARE domestic!" I leaned back far enough that I started falling back, but was too busy laughing to stop. Cas caught me, still laughing, and he started laughing with me. "I'm sorry, I just never saw this in my life!" I explained, still laughing.

"Never saw what?" He asked, laughing quietly as he helped me set my chair back up.

"Domesticity with an angel." I answered. "An ANGEL, for crying out loud!"

"Why?" He asked.

"Because," I motioned to his entirety. "You're you. YOU." I tried to explain. "Like, seriously. Have you seen yourself?"

"Huh?" Castiel asked.

"Seriously. You're, like, this amazingly great guy, and again, an angel, and you're living in an apartment with me!" I answered. "We live in an apartment together! I made veggie stir fry last night, and yesterday morning you tried making scrambled eggs!"

"And?"

"I don't know, it's just…" I shrugged. "It's a life I never imagined for myself, not after… Well…" I shrugged.

"Oh." Castiel said. He understood what I was talking about now.

When I'd been homeless.

During those times, I'd never actually imagined a life for myself off of the streets, never imagined a room in the Bunker, much less an apartment.

And an apartment with an angel, no less.

"Yeah." I said, looking back over to the computer. I started typing again, trying to cross-reference the picture of the teeth with and description with the lore.

Cas stepped behind me, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. I was proud of myself for not flinching. "Kylie," he said softly.

"What?"

"I didn't image a life like this for me either." He said quietly. "I never imagined a life with a woman like you, in an apartment like this, having a conversation over the phone with Dean about the monster they're hunting, and hearing you call me 'babe' and eat my burnt scrambled eggs," I interjected quickly.

"They weren't burnt, they were just extra crispy and delicious." I reminded him. He just laughed.

"And have you work to compliment my cooking attempt even when it went less-than-well." He finished. "I never thought I would get to be this fortunate in my lifetime, much less Dean or Sam's, and I'm grateful for that every day."

Cas leaned forwards to kiss me slowly, and I reflexively wrapped my arms around his neck. When he pulled away, I saw he was smiling. "I love you." He whispered. I leaned up to kiss his cheek quickly, feeling insurmountably happy.

"I love you too." I smirked at him, thinking for a second. "Babe."

He laughed, and I got back up out of my chair. "That search should run for a solid hour." I explained, jacking a thumb at the computer. "We could either keep researching, until we find out which creature we're looking for, or," I shrugged. "I don't know, you have any ideas?" I asked.

"No matter how badly I want to follow through with that thought," Castiel commented. "I would feel more comfortable waiting until we knew what we were dealing with before taking time to ourselves."

"You're so responsible." I stated, leaning up to kiss him one more time. He pulled away, shaking his head.

"And you're very distracting." He answered. "Come on, the sooner we figure this creature out, the sooner we can take time to ourselves."

"Fine." I agreed, smiling up at him.

An hour or so later, I pulled up information on something called a… How in the hell do I even pronounce "Nachzehrer?"

Cas knew how to pronounce it, however, and called to quickly explain the situation to Sam and Dean. When it came to Charon's Obol, however, I was an absolute Greek mythology nerd, and I knew exactly what I was talking about with that.

When the brothers hung up, I moved to a comfy spot on the couch and smirked up at Cas. "So, now that we solved the mystery of Shark Tooth," I commented, shrugging. "Whatcha got in mind?"

"Well, what would you be comfortable with?" He asked, taking a seat beside me. I laid a head on his shoulder.

"I don't know." I answered honestly. "I'm kind of chill with about anything with you." I thought for a moment before finally asking a question I had had on my mind for a bit. "Hey, what did Dean give you before we left?" I asked, curious. Cas pulled on the collar of his shirt, coughing and looking suddenly nervous. I sat up straight, looking over at him. "Cas?" I asked slowly.

"He, ahem," he coughed again. "He gave me, a, uhm…" He looked over at his coat, hanging on the hook by the door.

"Cas?" I asked again. Castiel, in turn, rubbed the back of his neck, looking quite nervous and anxious.

"It's a small pack of… ahm…" He took a deep breath. "It's a small pack of condoms."

"Oh." I said. I remembered our first date, how Dean had given him the same advice. We'd both decided not to, much to my relief.

This time, though, a few years later….

I wasn't so nervous anymore.

Not if I was with Cas.

"Is that…" I started, feeling slightly awkward. "Do you want to…"

God, I couldn't even finish the sentence.

Castiel, for his credit, turned his head back to me so fast I thought he was gonna catch whiplash.

"Do you?" He asked, his face completely serious.

"Not if you don't want to!" I explained quickly, throwing my hands up to accentuate my point. "Why?" I asked suddenly. "Do you?"

"Not if you don't want to." He answered, repeating my own words. "Do you?"

"I… I don't know." I answered honestly. "I mean, I remember the first time we came to this question, and we both agreed not to." I said. Castiel nodded.

"And I think we made a smart choice then." Castiel stated. I nodded in agreeance.

"Me too. We were just starting out our relationship, and figuring out how to work it out." I said. He nodded again. "But now… I don't know, a few years later, we know how our relationship works, we've been through a hell of a lot," I shrugged. "At this point in my life now, I'd feel much more comfortable than I had then." I looked away for a moment before looking at him. "What about you?"

"Well, you do know about April," he started, causing me to flinch slightly. "Sorry," he apologized quickly. "But, still, that's a part we should talk about. You know my sexual history, something that Sam told me is an important thing to learn about your partner when you're in a long-term relationship." I nodded, remembering the talk I'd had with my dad way too long ago. "You know mine," he paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "If it's alright for me to ask, and if you feel comfortable answering, would you tell me yours?" He requested.

"There isn't anything to tell, not from a relationship standpoint." I said. Castiel stared at me in confusion for a moment before I took a deep breath.

That was when I told him why I left Randy and Salinger's company. I told him how I knew what they would do to Claire, because they'd done the same before. I told him how it'd been consensual, like I'd told Sam when he asked, but that was pushing a few borders on the word – I'd only gone along with it because I thought I could keep a roof over my head. I told him how I hadn't been as lucky as she had been, hadn't had people that cared about me back then like she had him. I told him how I'd ran that night, afterwards, ran far and fast and prayed they wouldn't find me.

I told him everything, no holds barred, and hoped he would understand.

When I was done, we both sat in silence for a few moments. "So, yeah." I finally said, breaking the silence. "That's…. That's my history."

"Kylie," Castiel said, bringing my attention to him again. "I… I don't know what to say."

"Not a lot of people tend to." I replied. "It's alright."

"No, it's not." Castiel argued. I looked over at him, confused. "You deserve to be treated so much better than that, Kylie. You deserve to be loved and cared for and…" He shook his head, gripping the fabric of his pants tightly. "And to not have had that happen to you. You deserve to have a better memory than that, a memory that you can look back on without fear or worry or that look on your face, where you hate this memory and hate what happened."

"Cas, it's ok." I assured him. He just shook his head.

"No, it's not." He argued. "No part of this is OK whatsoever."

"Well, what do you propose, then?" I asked, uncertain of how in the hell to respond to this.

"I don't know!" He argued, standing up. "I just… I don't know. If I could go back and stop it, I would."

"But you can't do that." I reminded him.

"I know!" He responded, sitting back down. "And that… That infuriates me to no end, Kylie. You have no idea how much I wish I could, but I can't."

"Then what do we do, Cas?" I asked.

"I…" He took a deep breath, resting his head in his hands. "I don't know."

"Cas," I said calmly. "I've come to terms with this. I did a long time ago, and saving Claire from that same fate," I took a deep breath. "It was like the extra closure I needed. I've come to terms with all of this," I told him, looking over at him. "The question here is, can you be alright with that as my past? I know yours, I've heard it and moved past it, and if you can't get past mine, I'll…" I looked down for a moment. "I don't know, actually."

"Why would you ever think that I couldn't accept this?" He asked. "I wish I could go back and change it, because I would never wish for you to be hurt like this, but never, never in any fiber of my being could I ever not accept you for exactly who you are." He said. "You're strong, you're brave, you're kind and smart and beautiful and I could never express how fortunate I feel each day that I get to look at you and know that, by some insane reason, you chose to spend your time with me." He took my hands carefully, looking at them for a moment before looking at me. I smiled up at him, leaning in for a short kiss.

He kissed me back, and I pulled away to smile at him. "Are we OK?" I asked. He nodded.

"Are you OK?" He asked in response. I nodded, smiling at him.

"I feel comfortable with you." I explained. "Comfortable enough to bring this up to you, comfortable enough to have this conversation with you, and comfortable enough to ask, now, what you want to do next." I stared in to his eyes, wondering what his response would end up being.

"What do you feel comfortable with doing?" He asked in response. I thought for a moment, and leaned up to kiss him again.

"If I was going to do this with anyone," I answered. "I'd rather it be you than anyone else."

We both let that hang in the air for a moment, trying to see who would make the first move. Would one of us back down, or would one of us stand?

Finally, Castiel asked the important question. "Are you sure?" He asked. I thought for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah." I agreed. "Yeah, I'm sure."

He stood up slowly, pulling me along with him. "If you change your mind," he said quickly, but I shook my head.

"I'm ready for this." I assured him, walking past him to his coat. I pulled out the small pack of condoms, and for a moment laughed at the thought of Dean handing these to him.

"What's so funny?" Cas asked, giving me a small smile. I just laughed, looking at the pack and shaking my head.

"Nothing." I said, smiling back at him. I walked over past him, gripping his hand lightly as I kept walking. He stopped my movements, giving me a pointed look.

"Are you absolutely sure?" He asked one more time. I tugged on his hand, but he stayed firm. "I'm serious, Kylie. I want an answer."

"Yeah." I said, my voice quiet, but firm. "I really am sure."

When I pulled on his hand again, he followed me that time to our room.

I didn't flinch once.


	9. How Far We've Come

Castiel and I continued our lives of domesticity together with relative ease. I kept myself busy alternating between researching the Darkness, transcribing books, and writing for the self-help column. Cas brought back books and took others away when I was finished, did his own research on Amara, and got a job himself working at another local Gas 'n Sip. We alternated who answered calls when other Hunters needed a bail-out on the FBI, CIA, NSA, CDC, or whatever other agency they were using for their cover, after I helped Cas out with a basic script and finding that authoritative voice that made most people stop questioning him.

Life was simple. It was easy. It was….

Well, like Dean said, probably about as close as an angel and a Hunter could get to a normal life – a happy life together – within the hunting sphere.

When Cas took a few days off to chase down Metatron, I understood and stayed behind. It was something he had to do himself, and I accepted that.

I wasn't 100% happy about that, but I accepted it, and told him what to do to call in an emergency at work. Sudden death of a relative. Forged funeral information by yours truly. Would be back in four or five days. Sorry for the lack of earlier notice.

It worked, and he didn't get fired (switched shifts with someone, apparently, so that he could get in the hours and not take a huge dent to his paycheck), so Cas went to find Metatron.

I kept up the routine – answer, transcribe, and research.

Cas came back four days later, a day earlier than I thought he was. I'd gone out for Chinese takeout, deciding that would be easier than actually cooking something that night.

But when I came back, I saw the apartment decorated. The little table in front of our couch, where the majority of my research notes and laptop were generally held, were gone. In their place were two candles, set up on either side of the table, with empty plates set up beside two sets of cutlery.

When I turned to the kitchen, I smelled the good food before I saw Castiel, working away quietly at the oven. "Cas?" I asked quietly, setting my takeout down on the nearest counter.

Castiel turned to me, smiling. "Hi." He said, slightly sheepish. "I got back early, and you weren't home, so I decided to cook dinner." His gaze fell to the bag with food boxes. "I didn't realize you were out to acquire said food."

"It's just Chinese." I assured him. "I'll throw it in the fridge and it will still be great tomorrow morning for breakfast." And I did just that, moving past him to put the entire bag in the fridge before I turned back to him. "It smells… Really good." I complimented. "What're you cooking?" I tried to peak over his shoulder at the stove top, seeing the handle of a frying pan in his hand, but Cas was faster. He spun around, obscuring my view of what he was making.

"It's a surprise." He answered. "You'll have to wait until I'm done to find out."

"Cheeky bastard." I commented, leaning up to give him a kiss. I tried to dart my head to the side last-second, making the attempt to glimpse around him, but Castiel knew me too well. He grabbed me firmly by the shoulders, pulling me back to having my vision obscured by him.

Which wasn't a bad view, in all honesty. The tie and coat and suit jacket were gone, leaving him in his usual white shirt and dark pants, the top few buttons left undone.

He looked like a normal boyfriend that you would come home to see working to surprise you.

"Do you mind if I ask what all this is for?" I asked, deciding to leave the food a surprise.

"I know you don't like being left behind on hunts, even if it was for something as trivial as a human Metatron," Castiel started, turning his attention away for a moment to check on whatever was cooking behind him. "So I wanted to do something in exchange for your understanding, and also simply…" Cas shrugged. "Because I could."

"Why Castiel, how human of you." I commented, smirking up at him as I leaned in and actually kissed him this time. He smiled back.

"I actually enjoy these aspects of humanity, now." He answered, turning his head again to double-check on the food. "I need to get back to cooking. Your notes and work are on the bed, organized in the way I think you like, if I remember correctly." I laughed. Kevin's obsessive habits when it came to how he had his notes set up had been something I'd adopted and continued. Cas understood that, though, and I was actually touched that he'd made sure all the work I'd been doing was set up for me to continue on when I got back, probably in a neater format than I had left it. "And I put your laptop on the nightstand to charge. Go keep working, I know you want to, and I'll tell you when everything is ready."

"What makes you think I want to keep working?" I challenged, but I did walk to the bedroom anyways. Castiel, in turn, returned to his cooking.

"Because you left open twelve different tabs before you left the apartment, with different sticky notes reminding you about three different points of interest." He answered over his shoulder. "And because you got Chinese takeout, something you can eat in the box with little mess or prep, and when you're done not have to worry about leftovers or dishes because you can put it in the fridge for the next day, like you just did." I stopped, turning to look at him. He was still cooking, but from his posture I could tell he knew he was right.

"Cheeky bastard." I repeated, smiling and shaking my head. He knew me much too well.

However, as much as I wanted to do research… Cas was putting forward the extra effort to do something pretty damn nice and sweet tonight, a simple at-home date night.

Wow.

I was actually having a simple, at-home date night, with my boyfriend, in our apartment.

That was probably the biggest plot twist I could ever imagine in my life. Boyfriend. Apartment. Domestic date night with him cooking.

Him wanting to surprise me and come home a day early.

Him wanting to further surprise me by setting up a pretty sweet looking dinner date, with him cooking and candles on our table.

Him rattling off my habits and mannerisms like it was nothing, setting up my notes actually pretty damn close to how I preferred them organized.

Him reading the newspaper, sometimes, on the other side of the couch from me while I did my work, before he went off to his own job.

Him and I sharing the same bed, like a normal couple.

Just us, being an us, being a couple.

Four years ago, when I'd first met him in that alleyway… I couldn't have imagined any of this. Hell, if someone had told me all of this, four years ago… I could almost imagine the conversation.

"Hey, Kai, in four years you're gonna live in an apartment and your boyfriend of three years, who is also an angel in the 'oh-by-the-way' category, lives with you and you two love each other and he's gonna surprise you by coming home – yeah, you have a home in four years too, Kai, it's the apartment, not that goddamn alleyway – but he's gonna come home early and cook you dinner and just be your boyfriend, and it'll be pretty freaking sweet because you both love each other pretty damn hard and by God would you ever imagine this?"

In all honesty, I would've probably punched them in the face, called them a lying asshole, or both.

Then stolen their cash in the name of reparations trauma, solely because I wouldn't have ever been able to imagine this as my future.

Hell, four years ago when Sam asked me what I wanted for my birthday, my first answer was food.

Food.

Last time I got asked what I wanted for my birthday, I answered books and a spare iron knife that I actually kept in the bedside drawer. I'd been trying to engrave different symbols for protection against different beings on it with a surprising amount of success (I think).

I couldn't believe how far I'd come in four years.

"And I'm in a goddamn tank top and sweats." I muttered, looking down at myself. Cas was putting forth effort in to tonight, and both of us had put a hell of a lot of effort in to getting this far.

I was going to put forth some effort in to tonight too, and by God I wasn't going to walk in to that living room for dinner in these clothes. Not when Cas had put forth effort in to cooking and, as far as I could smell, hadn't burned anything.

I rifled through the closet, looking for any nice clothes. I had a few, in case I needed them, but I hadn't worn any of them in a while.

"Come on," I muttered, trying to remember where I'd put it. I knew I had at least ONE dress in there somewhere.

By God, I knew there as a dress in that closet somewhere.

"Accio dress." I whispered jokingly, knowing that it wouldn't work. I'd checked. Accio meant "to summon" if I remembered correctly, but I'd have to get freakishly good at telekinesis and know exactly where said object was to be able to do it. Neither of those were something I'd be able to do without serious training or a teacher.

"Come on, I know you're in here somewhere." I kept rifling through. Even if I couldn't find the dress, a nice shirt and skirt would be preferable!

"There you are!" I crowed, finally finding it. Every girl had to have a simple black dress after all, and I knew I kept one in the back of the closet.

I thought back to the when I'd talked with Mrs. Tran, one my first date with Cas. How I'd asked for advice on what to do when it came to my hair.

I could easily do the same thing again, and it would probably actually look really cute with the black dress. And as for makeup….

I set the dress down on the bed, and poked my head out the doorway. "Hey, babe?" I asked. Cas turned to look at me, still managing to obscure my vision of what he was cooking.

"Yes?"

"How long until food is ready?"

"I would estimate approximately twenty minutes, maybe more." He answered.

"Thanks!" I dropped back in to the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind me. "Twenty minutes. Damn."

I worked fast, deciding to screw the hairstyle from our first date and grab a hair clip about as long as my hand. It would work for throwing my hair up in to an easy sort of ponytail that still looked pretty cute.

"Alright, not half bad, plenty of time for makeup now." I decided, dashing in to our little bathroom. I kept a small bag of makeup supplies in a drawer, just the basics. Blush, eyeliner, concealer, mascara, one lip gloss and one hella cheap lipstick I'd gotten on sale.

The makeup killed the rest of my time, with my hand being just a little shaky and causing me to have to re-do the eyeliner twice. But once I was done, I didn't look half bad.

Hell, right pair of shoes and I could easily pass as possibly going to a nice function, as long as nobody looked too close.

FUCK. SHOES.

I dashed out of the bathroom and peeked another look out the door of our room. Cas looked like he was just finishing up. I couldn't see if he was wearing shoes or not, though.

"Fuck it. We both live here." I decided ducking back in to the bathroom to put away everything. I hoped quietly that Castiel would prefer the lack of unnecessary shoes. You realize that you could show up in your pajamas, and Castiel still would think you're the most attractive person in the room, right? I remembered Sam saying. Pajamas and you'd still be freaking Aphrodite to him.

Well, be that as it may, I thought. I've never seen him look at me like the effort was a bad thing.

"Kylie!" I heard Castiel call. "Food is ready!"

I took one last glance at myself in the mirror. You look fine. I heard Mrs. Tran's voice say in the back of my mind. It was reassuring, and I smiled, stuffing the makeup bag back in its spot before walking out to join Cas.

He was lighting the candles, focused on his task, until he glanced up and saw me.

Then he almost dropped the lighter.

"Careful!" I exclaimed, rushing to try and catch it (though I knew the action would be a fruitless one). He caught himself, and the lighter, and moved swiftly to place it back on the bookshelf.

"You look…" Castiel paused for a moment, searching for the right word. "Beautiful."

"It's nothing," I said, waving off the compliment as I looked away. Cas shook his head though, coming around the couch to take my hand.

"It is not nothing." He assured me, leading me around the couch. That was when I finally saw what he'd made.

He'd cooked fried chicken in the skillet, and apparently had dinner rolls in the oven and steamed veggies somewhere or other.

"Wow." I said, taking a seat beside him slowly. "Cas… You really outdid yourself."

"It was nothing." He assured me, pouring me a glass of… When did he get wine?

Better question, you need a drivers license or some form of ID to get alcohol in general. When did he get an ID? I knew I had one, and kept some beer in the fridge, but I hadn't bought any wine recently.

"It's not nothing." I responded, parroting his earlier response to my saying that. "Cas, this is all…" I wasn't certain how to format the words properly.

"It is all a testament to how far we have come over the years." Castiel said, actually summing up what I was thinking pretty nicely.

So we talked, and ate, for what felt like hours condensed in to seconds. He told me about how Metatron was human now (fun plot twist), and homeless as we had been (even more fun plot twist), but not doing nearly as well as we had done (best plot twist). He also told me that the force I'd been trying to track was, in fact, God's sister (biggest plot twist). In turn, I told him about how I'd tried new tracking spells on Amara, some hypothetical ones I'd been working out, but that they'd either fizzled out or simply hadn't worked (which was easier to understand, now that I knew who in the hell I'd been trying to get a location on).

He told me about how he's got the day off tomorrow, and that we could spend it together if I wanted to. He told me about his drive, about his work, and about normal mundane things.

I told him about the self-help column; how one poor woman had wrote in asking about problems with a possible cheating husband, another man about a cheating wife, and my own theory was that they were either the same paranoid couple or that they were two different couples who spouses were cheating with the other cheater. He laughed at that one, and I figured it wouldn't be the worst to answer both in the same thing to see how it plays out.

We talked about a possible haunting case that had come through one of the self-help questions actually, about feeling crazy because her AC system and house wiring kept acting up even though she'd had people come to check them both out twice (the woman thought it was the babysitter screwing with things, and didn't know how best to confront her).

I asked him about the wine at some point, because I was genuinely curious, and he said that Sam had suggested the bottle and given it to him on his way back as a gift.

We talked about how different things had been a few years ago, for both of us, and how amazing everything was now.

And all in all… We just sat down and enjoyed a nice, quiet meal like a normal couple. We talked like a normal couple (with some slightly abnormal conversation topics). We ate together like a normal couple and finished every bite (Castiel's cooking was seriously good. I needed to ask him at some point where he'd gotten the recipe for this). We laughed and drank wine and enjoyed our night long in to the late hours of it.

"So Cas," I finally said, the wine nearly gone at this point. "I know it's not my birthday, and you don't have one really, nor is it our anniversary or any other special date that I'm aware of," I was thinking hard to see what I was missing. I was almost absolutely certain this wasn't the same date as the day we'd first met (though it had been difficult to track dates and things for me then), nor the same date as the day I died or came back or the day we met the second time or anything else. "So why all of this?" I asked. "No reason or am I totally being an awful person and blanking on something?" Cas took a deep breath, setting down his glass and anything else that might've been in his hands before he answered.

"I wanted to do something, for us, to truly display that this is our apartment, our… our home." He explained, looking suddenly nervous as he turned to face me. "I wanted to show you that this is something permanent; something that will not waver or leave." I nodded, understanding what he meant. "I know that when I first met you, it was not in the best of situations," he started. "And I know that for a long time having a place to truly call your own was not something you believed to be attainable. You entertained my ideas and imaginings of one, but you did not believe yourself to be a part of it. You are, though," he said quickly. "You are absolutely a part of what I would want for my future, be it in the hunting life or…" He set down the wine bottle. I hadn't even realized he was still holding it. "Or if we stepped back from it near entirely, solely intervening in the names of research or phone calls or an emergency."

"Cas, what are you saying?" I asked, feeling very nervous all of the sudden.

"We have been together for almost two years now," he answered. "And I honestly cannot say that I have been any happier within those two years than the millennia I have lived and the thousands I have been to earth. I enjoy my time with you, and I hope you enjoy it with me as well," he sought my gaze for confirmation, and I nodded, causing him to smile for a moment and continue. "And I am happy, right now. I wasn't happy when I was gone, looking for Metatron. I wasn't happy when I chose to deny myself the privilege of seeing you, because I had been the cause of your pain. I wasn't happy when I wasn't with you, even if we were on a hunt and you got hurt I was more alright with that than I was with you simply not being there, because at least by us being together one of us could do something about it.

"Angels do not normally fall in love. It is very rare, and very often looked down upon. For so long I sought to maintain my place among my brethren, to remain accepted as one of them, but being among humanity and within your company has taught me that there is much more to being alive than just that. I have been alive for a very, very long time," he restated. "And I have watched humans experience this kind of happiness and life, but never imagined it for myself. Now that I get to experience it and truly live within it," he let out a small laugh. "I cannot say that if presented with the choice, I would return to heaven. If I was given the option to go back, as though I had never left, and as though nothing had changed, I would not make that choice." He said. "I would choose this dinner that I hope was at least adequate," I laughed a little, as did he again.

"It was more than adequate, Cas." I assured him. He smiled, and continued on.

"Or anything in the world other than heaven, as long as it was with you. So what I am saying is that I am grateful to live a life with you, and that I would like to continue this life, however you wish to continue it, with you." He took a deep breath. "What I am saying is..." He stood up, and moved back our table. As I stood to help him, he shook his head, and I resumed my seat. Once he was done though, he turned to me, reached in to his pants pocket, and got down on one knee.

"Oh my god." I muttered. I couldn't help it. I let the words slip out, and almost did again as he procured a small black box from his pocket. When he opened it, I saw a small diamond ring inside of it.

"Kylie Dianne Dillinger," he said, drawing my attention back to him. "Will you marry me?"


	10. Honey, I'm Home

I called Dean and Sam to tell them the news the next morning.

I was engaged.

I was actually engaged.

They drove up to the apartment, me calling to tell Mrs. Tran as they did (who absolutely screamed with joy, as did Kevin), and celebrated. I jokingly asked Sam to be my maid of honor, due to his long hair (he respectfully declined).

We enjoyed the next few days celebrating and planning, like a family would.

And everything went to shit after those few days.

Sam and Dean went out on some hunt or other, encouraging me and Cas to stay at the Bunker if we wanted and "pretend it was an early honeymoon getaway" (Dean's words) for the two of us. We stayed at the apartment anyways, with Cas having work and me researching on wedding plans (Mrs. Tran was pretty helpful on that) and trying to figure out how in the hell there had never been anything before on God having a sister.

Cas left next. He called after his shift to tell me something was up, he could feel something big that had happened among the angels and he was going to check it out. I told him I'd stay and run interference, keep up the research.

I think the last words I said to him were that I loved him.

I'm certain that that's what they were.

Then I got nothing. For a solid week, I got nothing. No calls from Sam or Dean.

Nothing from Cas.

I called them, paranoid and freaking out. They hadn't told me what was going on. Nobody had told me anything, really. I was afraid that angels had killed Cas, or that Sam and Dean had been killed on their most recent hunt. I'd done tracking spells on the three of them, and had gotten locations for Sam and Dean.

But nothing for Cas.

But finally, after a solid week, Dean called.

"Ok, I just want to start out with first off, we're sorry," he said. I interrupted before he could finish.

"DEAN!" I screamed in to the phone. "WHAT THE HELL?!"

"I know, I know it's been a week," he tried to cut in, but I wasn't having it.

"I THOUGHT YOU THREE WERE DEAD!" I screamed. "I THOUGHT YOUR LAST HUNT HAD KILLED YOU! AND THEN, WHEN THE TRACKING SPELLS WORKED ON YOU TWO, I FIGURED IT WAS SOME IMPROMPTU BACHELOR PARTY FOR CAS, UNTIL I GOT NOTHING FOR HIM! THEN I THOUGHT HE'D GOTTEN COLD FEET, AND YOU TWO HAD BEEN HELPING HIM RUN!" I stopped, realizing exactly what this call could be. "Dean…" I said, my voice suddenly very quiet and scared. "Did Cas change his mind and decide to leave?"

"What?" He asked, absolutely abhorred by the idea. "Kylie, what the hell? No. No he didn't. But you haven't seen him?"

"No. Have you?"

That was when Dean told me he and Sam would be by in an hour and tell me everything. When they came through the door, we all sat down with a few beers and talked.

They told me everything.

They told me about Lucifer.

They told me about the angels trying to smite Amara, and Cas going to check it out.

They told me how they didn't want Cas to get involved, with our recent engagement.

They told me about Sam's solo cage match with Lucy.

They told me about Dean picking up something from Billie the Reaper (they didn't know I'd met her as well), and the witchcatcher (good for me to know about and be aware of) that Crowley currently was using to control Rowena (definitely weird and speaking volumes about the status of the demon's psyche), who had apparently attempted to double-cross everyone and sided with Lucifer, so maybe it was best for now that she was leashed by someone.

They told me about how Amara had sent Cas to them as a message, saying she was coming.

They told me how Cas had refused to get me involved, us being recently engaged and him saying he didn't want to worry me.

They told me about all three of them in the cage with Lucifer.

They told me how they'd all left a little messed up, and that Dean and Sam had had a case almost directly afterwards involving a banshee.

"We thought Cas would tell you everything." Sam said, confused. "But you said you haven't seen him?"

"No." I answered. "No calls or texts or messages or anything. I tried a tracking spell, I tried a lot, but they all got zip." I said. "But you said he was alive when you guys left, right?"

"Yeah." Dean assured me.

"Then…" That same thought crossed my mind again, and I looked down at the ring on my finger. "Do you think he might've changed his mind after all?"

"No!" Sam and Dean said simultaneously.

"Look," Sam said. "We'll call him right now and sort this all out." As he spoke, Dean was already dialing. "We were all pretty messed up after dealing with Lucifer, maybe Cas just wanted to touch base in Heaven, make sure everyone else was OK there, or didn't want to come back to you an absolute wreck and make me worry."

"Hey, Cas," Dean said. I looked over at him, hopeful, and saw a look of disappointment in his eyes. "Call me back pronto. I mean it." He hung up, and glanced over at me. "Voicemail." He said nervously. He stared at me, the silence awkward, before he stood. "I'm gonna try Crowley." He stated to no one in particular, walking away as he dialed again.

"It's probably nothing." Sam repeated. "Hell, his phone might've even gotten jacked up or something in all that happened."

I tried to feel assured by his words, but I didn't. Something felt wrong. I knew something was wrong.

Dean got no answer from Crowley, and they really didn't know what else to do after that.

"No more secrets." I said, staring them both in the eyes after Dean sat back down. "No more lies and keeping me out of these big things. I don't care what it may entail. I don't care if it involves Crowley or not. I don't care what else is going on. I need to know. I can't sit these out anymore."

"And if it involves Crowley?"

"I'm still hate the British bastard." I replied. "He killed my brothers, my dad. He slaughtered them and the first friends I'd had in a while after that. I had to WATCH that," I reminded them, keeping eye contact with the both of them. "But as much as I hate him and every other demon out there, right now with the Darkness being the bigger evil, I will even put up with that asshole, but only as long as we stay honest with each other. Are we understood?" I asked crisply.

I felt like my trust had been violated, multiple times. They lied to me about paying a visit to Lucy. They lied to me about working with Crowley and the witch Rowena, who I personally couldn't care less about. They lied to me about the attempt to take down Amara. They lied to me about Cas, and now he was gone. They lied to me about so many things, and left me here to do research and freak out and stew.

So I kept staring them both down, kept watching and compressing all my emotions until I could feel the ice in my gaze. I wouldn't forgive them for a long while after this.

"Understood." They both said at the same time.

"Good. Now I'm going to call Cas, and you two are going to go find a new case since Amara is in the wind, Lucifer is still locked up, and Rowena is more than likely playing mommy to Crowley." I told them. They nodded resolutely. "I'll show you the research I found when I'm done calling, because I actually did find a few useful things."

They left after I showed them the very little information I had acquired, assuring me that the second they reached the angel they'd let me know.

They were gone on another case a few days later, something involving Claire. They promised to check and see if she had heard anything ("Maybe he was getting Claire's blessing, making sure she was ok with all of this." Sam had offered). I, in turn, headed to the Bunker. Cas had officially been fired from his job at the Gas n Sip, according to the call I answered since he hadn't shown or given any info as to why, and I honestly couldn't stay at the apartment.

So I stayed at the Bunker while the boys hunted, letting Sam and Dean know I was there. They were alright with it, and still checking out things up in Sioux Falls. I kept calling Cas, but to no avail. I'd put aside making wedding plans at this point, still afraid that there wouldn't be a wedding.

But finally, almost two weeks after what I was determined to call "The Failed Cage Match," I got a call.

From Dean.

"Hey, we're on our way back now." He started. "Any new leads on Amara?"

"I have zilch." I answered, flipping through my notes for the umpteenth time. "How was the case?"

"Oh, full of vampires. Claire says hi, by the way, and congratulations."

"Has she seen Cas?" I asked. I couldn't keep the anxiety out of my voice.

"Actually, Claire hadn't seen him." Dean said. "She's still excited for the wedding though. However, Cas is the reason I'm calling."

"Why? What happened?"

"I just got a call from Cas about five minutes ago." Dean said. "He should calling you any second."

"What the hell?" I asked, feeling very pissed. I could almost see Dean's hands up in an "I surrender stance."

"I know, I know, it's really weird, I'm concerned too." Dean said.

"Did he say what's up?"

"No, just that he's sorry and that he's gonna call you in a little bit." Dean answered. "Look, I gotta go, but I just wanted to let you know that he's ok, alright? And as far as I can tell, not having second thoughts."

"Then why hasn't he called me yet, Dean?" I asked. "Why has he just left me here to sit and freak out in my own thoughts?" I could feel the word "again" in the back of my mind, but decided not to say it. Dean just sighed.

"I don't know." Dean replied honestly. "Just… Just hang in there, alright?"

"Alright." I agreed before hanging up. I turned to my notes, half-tempted to scatter them off the B.A.M.T. in anger and fear and a whole mix of emotions I wasn't even close to being ready to understand. "Dammit," I swore, now tempted to just throw my phone. Instead I stared at it, feeling all those emotions fighting for dominance. "Dammit, Castiel, why can't you just call or text or drop me some sort of line?" I asked out loud. When I got no answer, I let out a sigh of my own. "He'll call." I assured myself, setting the phone down on the table. "He'll get a hold of me."

"Or," a voice said from behind me. I whirled around to see a bouquet of flowers, bright and colorful, first. Then they lowered to reveal a smiling face beneath. "Instead of calling or texting or dropping some sort of line I can just show up in person."

"Cas!" I shouted, delighted for a moment as I embraced him. Then I pulled away, remembering the important parts. "YOU ASS!"

"Is this how humans do the reunion thing now?" He asked, confused. I was about to rant, to really let him know exactly what kind of hell that his AWOL thing put me through, but I didn't. Instead, I focused on something more important.

His voice.

"You sound…. Different." I said calmly, walking around to examine him. He spun around with me, watching me watch him. "Are you ok?"

"Oh I'm better than ok." He replied, still using that same odd voice. Like he was happy, but not really. Just a sarcastic imitation, almost. "In fact, you could even say I'm new and improved." He shoved the flowers closer to me. "Please take these. I got them to apologize."

I accepted them slowly, uncertain. As I did I saw the faintest flecks of red on the stems. When I lifted them for closer inspection, pretending to smell them, I saw that they were flecks of blood.

I looked back at Castiel, who was grinning a different grin, not his grin. Castiel's grin was either goofy, like he was trying to make a joke, or earnest and the most honest smile I've ever seen. The one he was wearing now, though… It was like the cat ate the canary, except the cat was a psychopath and the canary was actually a big-ass dog that it smiled at while eating delicately.

"What took you so long to get back?" I asked cautiously.

"I just had to sort out a few loose ends." He replied vaguely, still smiling that awful grin.

"Like?"

"Nothing you need to worry about." He answered.

"Ok." I said, setting the flowers down on the table. I didn't dare take my eyes off of him, though. The situation had just changed, drastically.

This wasn't my Castiel.

This wasn't Castiel at all. This wasn't how he acted, how he talked, not even how he stood. This wasn't Castiel. This was something trying to act like him.

"Don't I get a homecoming kiss?" He asked. I kept watching him, trying to figure out his next move. "What? I had to work some things out. I know I didn't tell you, but I didn't think that I had to tell you absolutely everything. I thought you would understand."

"Castiel," I said slowly. "I'm going to call Dean and let him know you're here."

"Why do that now?" He asked. "We have the whole bunker to ourselves! Some alone time here is so hard to come by, and you know the second you call them they'll waste both an hour of us time and their case time to ask questions and pretend to be our parents." Not-Cas laughed. "I'm older than both of them, COMBINED. Much older. It's almost cute that they try to do that, you know?"

"I'm going to call them." I stated again, reaching slowly for the phone. I kept watching him, watching IT, to see its next move.

"No you're not." He replied. I was still moving slowly to get the phone. I was afraid of what a sudden movement might do.

"Why?"

"Because if you do then I'll kill you."

There.

He'd said it.

"What are you?" I asked, stopping my hand from moving. I brought it back to me slowly, watching him still.

"Take a guess." It replied. "I'll even give you a hint. 'Blank! I'm home!'" He said, stretching out the word home just like the husband from show.

I felt everything within me run cold. No. No no no no no. "Lu," I tried. "Lu," I was terrified of being told I was right.

"Lucifer." I finally said.

"And BINGO, we have a winner!" He said brightly, clapping his hands together. I watched the flowers compress in to a small, shriveled, compact ball at the same time his hands touched. "And you know, I really do want to keep you around, too. After all, you're Castiel's favorite pet. I need you to stick around. But I was really, REALLY hoping that this would be a more voluntary thing than it's probably going to be." He said.

I couldn't stop myself. I lunged, shooting out a hand to cast him aside, but he just made a motion with his hand like he was shooing away a fly, and without even laying a hand on me I was flung back in to the bookcase behind me. "Oh, he didn't like that." Lucifer tutted, shaking his head as I sunk down. "Not one bit. Nice trick with your own attempt at magic, though. Too bad mine is just a bit more powerful than that borrowed bit of angel in you." He laughed. "I guess you do have some angel in you, that kills that joke then."

When I tried to get up, he just waved a hand to push me back down. "Do you want to know a secret, though?" He smiled, moving on. "It doesn't matter. Your boy-toy said yes to me. Did it without any push from me. Easier than landing a Winchester, surprisingly. I mean, Sam was plan A, but this angel's vessel right here? This long-term angel vessel that is ONLY inhabited by an angel?" He smiled. "And one that used to be human?! It's even better than Sam's meat suit ever would've been, even if he'd been all hopped up on his Wheaties. Do you even know about the blood-drinking episodes?" He thought, tapping a finger to his upper lip. "Well," he threw his hands up for a second. "Now you do."

"Get out of him." I growled. "Now."

"Or what?" He asked in response. I shot out another hand, fighting for that angel power to push against him with, but it was like trying to swat a freaking tyrannosaurus with a wet towel. He just laughed at my attempt again. "You can't get rid of me, not without getting rid of Castiel as well. We're both angels. Screw over one and you screw over both."

"Why him?"

"He said yes." He responded, sounding almost like a bride. "And we're getting married in the spring oh happy days!" I winced at his statement. He knew. Of course he knew.

Lucifer, jumped up and down, clapping his hands again. With each clap a book fell down from above me, rained down like leather and paper hail. "We're going to have slumber parties, and braid each other's hair, and take down the darkness, and afterwards go out for ice cream!"

"And then you restart the apocalypse." I finished.

"Eh, I dunno." He said, looking as though he was mulling it over. "Amara first, though. I mean, there won't be a world to have fun with if she takes it out. It'll be all fun and candy, though, don't worry."

"Get out of him." I said again, starting to stand up.

"Oh, quit trying, honey." He said, waving a hand at me. I felt pushed back down, right where I had been thrown. "Blood on you won't look good for me."

"Why not just kill me?" I dared him. "Make good on your threat."

"Like I said, blood on you won't look good for me." He replied. "As long as the Winchesters think you and I are the happy couple, then I'm fine. But if they find out, they'll gut me. I mean you won't, you're too in love with this angel that, in all honesty, was really slumming it with you. Did you know there was another angel that he could've had a happy ending with? Or a demon? But no, they both died, so he settled for you. And you're so… besotted with this broken thing that you couldn't hurt him if you tried. He PHYSICALLY ATTACK YOU, and you wouldn't do jack shit."

"I won't do it." I told him. "I won't betray the Winchesters."

"What've they done to keep your trust like this?" He asked. "They lied to you. Castiel lied to you, too."

"I lied to them when I first met them." I pointed out.

"Really, your name?" He asked, shaking his head. "That's so sad it shouldn't even count."

"I won't betray them. I won't betray Cas or the Winchesters."

"But, by telling the Wondertwins, you'll kill Cas. And by helping me, you'll keep Cas alive and betray the boys." He shook his head. "I'm not certain what plan you have in mind here. I mean, your boyfriend…" He paused, placing a hand on his chest. "Sorry, your fiancé VOLUNTEERED to do this, remember? HE said yes."

"And what if I said yes too?" I asked. This made the angel pause. "Like you said, Sam and Dean consider themselves my parents. What parent could kill their child? And Castiel could never do it either."

Lucifer pondered on this for a moment. Just a moment.

"Nah." He decided. "I like this body better. It's a boy's body, and I'm not sharing!" He said, pulling out a pout. "Besides, I need the juice in an angel/human hybrid, especially the one that daddy favors most. However, considering how you ARE going to be a considerably difficult loose end to deal with…" He started to advance towards me, smiling. I scrambled to get up. He let me try.

"It's probably for the best, anyhow." He said. "Much preferable, and I'm certain that your precious angel would much prefer this to me parading you about like a prize to be won." He looked me up and down as I finally stood. "But damn, does he know how to pick the good looking ones."

"What are you going to do?" I asked, gripping my knife. I'd pulled it out of my pocket as I slowly rose again.

"You'll be much more useful to me if you just play along." He stated, advancing on me. "Do you know what Castiel's saying right now, in my head?" He asked, smiling. I pulled my blade out between us, but he just waved his hand and my wrist was pinned above me. "He's saying thank you." Lucifer told me sweetly. "Thank you, brother, for getting rid of her for me."

The angel placed a hand on my head, and it burned. I screamed in pain as everything around me turned so bright for a moment, a blinding white brightness, before it all faded to black.

When I woke up, I was scared for a moment that I was dead. Everything around me was so white and dreary and…. Freezing. I looked down, and saw that I was still wearing my thin T-shirt, flannel button-up, and jeans, laying down in a large expanse of snow. Snow was everywhere, falling all around me.

"This is either my personal hell," I decided out loud as I stood, and quickly. "Or I'm going to be sent to it from hypothermia."

I could already tell my fingers were numb, feel the freezing cold on my back from wet clothes. I took off the flannel, and checked it for dry spots. It was thoroughly soaked.

"I'm going to die out here." I said calmly. I didn't know where I was, or even how long I had been out here. I just knew that I was nowhere near the equator, nowhere south in general, and that judging by the lack of feeling across my body I'd probably been out here for a while. It was snowing heavily, and I was in half-soaked jeans, a thick shirt that was probably half-soaked as well, and without any shoes. I tended to prefer being barefoot. Now, I was starting to regret it.

"I'm going to die out here." I repeated, letting that sink in. I looked around, and saw nothing. No lights. No signs of people. Absolutely nothing at all. I couldn't find it in me to cry, to scream, to do a lot.

Instead, I started walking. I kept the flannel, and wrapped it up in a ball for really no reason whatsoever except for maybe a pillow, that way when I died I could at least die in a small ounce of comfort.

Castiel was gone, and there was going to be no luck in praying to him. Lucifer was there, and would kill me if I tried to get in touch with Sam and Dean. Why he didn't kill me then, I still didn't get. He said he needed me, and then threw me out in this frozen wasteland. I didn't get it. Hell, I didn't even have a way to contact everyone. My phone had been on the table. I hadn't had time to grab it. My knife, though. I had to look at my hand to be sure. I was still grasping it. My fingers were too numb for me to feel them or make them move. I was probably frozen to that handle.

It wasn't an angel blade, but it was a weapon, and it was better than nothing.

I kept walking, feeling myself get tired with every second. I looked at my fingers, and none of them were showing signs of frostbite yet. They probably would, soon, if I didn't die of hypothermia or fatigue first. Or did frostbite come before hypothermia? I didn't know. All I remembered was to not eat the snow. It would lower my core body temperature faster.

"I'm dead if I stay here and I'm dead if I keep trying to find somewhere." I muttered, collapsing on to my knees in the snow. There went the last half of my dry jeans. "What the hell?"

I thought about my family, the ones who were dead. The friends I'd made that were also dead. I thought about Sam and Dean and Castiel, the ones who were still alive.

They wouldn't want me to give up.

They'd want me to do something.

But what could I do?

Lucifer was an angel, and probably in charge of hell right now. I couldn't send up a prayer, he'd hear it. I couldn't try summoning a demon, he'd know about it.

I was thankful for the warding Castiel had put on my ribs so long ago. At least they wouldn't find me.

Then again, who would?


	11. She's Dead (Castiel POV)

A few hours later, after having to listen to Lucifer use my voice to call the brothers and report Kylie missing, ("I got here about five minutes ago. Her cell phone is still on the table, and I can't find her anywhere. She's not at the apartment and I'm worried something is wrong."), and watch him raid through everything in the Bunker, I was still clawing at the seams of where I was stashed away, trying to get him to stop and listen.

Finally, though, as we stood in Kylie's room at the Bunker, (I hated him in her room, and was going to hate him even more if he stepped foot in our apartment), he stopped. "Alright, brother." Lucifer said, standing in front of her full-length mirror she left here. "I can feel you scratching away in there, trying to talk to me. So let's talk, face to face."

Suddenly I was looking at myself, but I didn't look anything like how I thought I did. I wasn't standing the same, I didn't smirk like that, I didn't even tilt my head like that!

But most importantly, I didn't like the way he'd looked at Kylie. Like she was an object, a piece of meat, a thing to be used and thrown out on a whim.

Or just to be thrown out in general when it doesn't serve the wanted purpose.

"Where did you send her?" I asked, no, _demanded_ to know. I refused to ask if she was dead. I refused to believe that would be a possibility. He said that he needed her, and that meant alive. I just had to know for what.

"I honestly don't know." Lucifer answered calmly. "Somewhere cold, I think. I couldn't send her to hell, but I wanted to give her a bit of a taste of what it would be like if she didn't obey."

"SHE'S GOING TO DIE!" I shouted, slamming on the glass that separated us. Lucifer tutted, shaking my head.

"She'll send up a prayer any second now." He responded. " _Begging_ for help, for rescue. She'll ask the angels, and since it'll be a widespread one, I'll hear it too."

"This wasn't a part of the plan."

"The Winchesters can't know yet." He stated, shrugging. "I need her to play along. The more they focus on the Darkness instead of us, the less likely it is that they'll try and kill us, and that way we can all gank the big D together."

"That shouldn't have included Kylie!" I shouted back.

"You should've outlined your terms better." He said calmly. "Besides, it would've been weirder if I hadn't interacted with her. The Winchesters would've been on my ass even more, which is also your ass, and would've been suspicious until we finally did come back to speak with her. I will say," he paused, smiling a little. "She's not the stupidest ape I've ever encountered. She knows you well, anyways, probably better than the Tweedles. She saw right through this, after all, and those two dumbasses have known you for how much longer?" He laughed. "Still apes, all of them, but she'll be a good one to have around. Her research is quite thorough."

Suddenly he stopped, thinking. "Hey, Castiel?" He started suddenly. "How long does it take a human to freeze to death?"

"Hours." I responded.

"Give me an approximate."

"Five, six hours." I guessed. "If they're dressed for the cold."

"And if they're not?"

I stopped, finally realizing what he was getting at. "Less." I said quietly. "A lot less."

"Oh, home." He muttered. I could feel him searching through the atoms for her. I tried to search as well, but…

I hoped it was just Lucifer's influence blocking my abilities, or even just the wardings on her ribs. But the disappointed expression on his face confirmed my worst fears.

"I probably should've kept better track of where I sent her." He amended. "And the Winchesters will be too busy looking for her to deal with the Darkness properly, or look at us properly either…" I could feel him thinking. "I may be able to make this work, but I don't know for certain. The information she gathered, and the way she did it, was definitely invaluable."

"You killed her."

"Technically, she killed herself. She should've woken up. She knew she had options."

"She knew you would be listening, did you think about that?"

"Yes, actually." He replied. "That's what I was counting on. She loathes demons with a passion and would never turn to them, nor could she even if she wanted to, and she doesn't know any other angels save myself and you. An open prayer was her only option, or death." He threw a hand in the air, almost exasperated. "I guess she would rather die than see you again."

" **YOU KILLED HER**!" I shouted at him again, banging hard on the glass.

"So what? She was just a human."

" **THAT DOESN'T MATTER**!" I shouted again. " **THIS IS WHY GOD CAST YOU OUT**!"

"I'm not quite certain if I follow. I was cast out because I wouldn't bow down to those… Apes. Those imperfect beings that prance around like they own the universe." He argued.

"It wasn't about bowing to them!" Castiel argued. "It was about accepting them, about loving them like family."

"I think you loved her a little more than family, brother." Lucifer said with a chuckle. "Tell me, was it a red dress that you imagined her in, or was it just a haze of red passion that had you thinking all those naughty, naughty thoughts?"

" **I LOVED HER, AND YOU KILLED HER**!" I cried. " **YOU KILLED HER**!"

"You'll get over it." Lucifer waved a dismissive hand at me. "What, you went from demon to human, with I'm hoping some angel mixed in. Maybe you'll cycle through the different…. Things now. Like vampires and werewolves and that shit. Or, you know, back to your own kind would be nice."

I sunk down, closing my eyes. I didn't want to see her room. I didn't want to see any more of her, not right now.

It felt as though no matter what I did, she was destined to die, and it would be my fault.

I couldn't see the remnants of her presence, not right now.

Lucifer sighed. "She's just a human, brother. She would've died anyways, from an accident or hunting or even old age." He said softly. "You would've had to deal with this no matter what. I just brought it to you a little sooner."

I didn't need to open my eyes to know that I was back inside whatever corner Lucifer locked me away in. I could feel the oppressive difference around me. I listened as he called the Winchesters, filling my voice with grief.

"She's dead." He said, choking up on a few of the words. "The Darkness… Amara… It killed her. It incinerated Kylie, just to prove a point. She's coming, guys; She's coming, and she's pissed."

I didn't listen to much more, after that. I knew the truth, and I knew I had caused it.

The brothers came back a few days later. By then Lucifer had finished going through everything else in the Bunker, rooting out every secret he could, as well as everything in our apartment. We didn't talk again. He did a better job of pretending to be me when the Winchesters were around. Any odd behavior was written off as grief. Lucifer had even burned a hole in a spot not too far away from the Bunker, and took the brothers to it as proof of her being dead. They mourned together over beers and cheap take-out. "When I find that bitch," Lucifer said in my voice. He was really putting on a show, with the raggedness and tears and hitches and everything. "I'm going to destroy her. I'm going to lock her up for good, and nothing is going to stop me. From here on out, we do this for Kylie."

"For Kylie." Dean and Sam agreed, raising their beers. They drank the rest in silence.

I wished that the brothers would find out the truth, though, and soon; wished that they would kill both myself and Lucifer.

If I was dead, I wouldn't have to be reminded every day that it was my fault she died.


	12. Billie (Kylie's POV)

I tried to remember anything I knew on Reapers, and what I could do to summon one. I needed ground though, solid ground, not fucking SNOW. At least, if I wanted to trap one I did.

There were different spells for summoning Reapers, I knew there were.

"Come on," I muttered, racking my brain for anything. ANYTHING. I hadn't paid too much attention to that part. I hadn't thought I'd need to.

I found something, in my head. Dean had told me about how he'd summoned one, while in a coma. Maybe it would work if I wasn't in a coma?

I could feel myself start to lose feeling in a few body parts. Close enough, perhaps?

"Messorum evoco..." I paused, trying my best to remember and focus on Billie, specifically. "Messorum evoco qui me tetigit." I said, stuttering a little from the cold as I spoke the words. "Billie, Billie, please be the one that shows up." I pleaded, hoping it wasn't too close to a prayer. I focused hard, and closed my eyes as I felt my energy surging within me. "Ego vocabo te, mortem et qui metit, in tempore oportuno." I didn't know how the words were coming to me, but I knew they were correct. I summon thee, Reaper of death, in my time of need. "Messorum evoco qui me tetigit."

When I opened my eyes, the Reaper stood before me, hands on her hips. "You rang?" She asked. I nodded, suddenly feeling very tired. "I don't know how in the hell you did that, but you did it. What do you need?"

"Lucifer is free." I told her, fighting to not pass out. I'd probably used much more effort than I'd intended, and wasn't certain how much energy I had left in me. "Nothing is safe. I need help."

"And what do you think a Reaper can do for you?" She asked.

"I don't have anywhere else to go." I answered. "I don't care what you can do, I just need safety and protection from angels and demons."

"And what makes you think I'd do anything for you?"

"I can summon you, and you're curious now." I answered, taking a deep breath. I had to look like I had more strength than I actually did. "There's nothing stopping me from ringing your doorbell until you change your mind."

"I can feel you dying, you realize." She reminded me. I shrugged.

"What else am I supposed to do?" I asked. She laughed.

"I like your spunk, kid." She told me, stepping forwards to grab my shoulder.

Within a moment, we were transferred somewhere else.

A house, kinda old and…. Seriously reeking of something foul.

"Where are we?" I asked, looking around.

"Backwoods Indiana." She answered, walking over in to another room. I followed her quietly, and as the smell got worse I bore witness to the source of it.

A woman, dead on the floor at the foot of her stairs.

"She died halfway down, heart attack, and fell the rest of the way." Billie explained, kneeling to put her hands on either side of the dead woman's head. "She lived alone, no children or family left, out here away from civilization. Nobody will come for her, nobody will mourn her, and nobody will come knocking on her door." Billie rose, taking a deep breath in. "This is the best thing to a safehouse I can bring you to, unless you want to spend a night in the Veil?" She offered, turning towards me. I shook my head.

"Then you're here, for now." She said. "Find some chalk or paint or something, and get to work on warding the place. If you're going to stay here, you're going to need to make sure nobody comes knocking for you."

I did as Billie instructed, rooting around in the garage until I found a can of paint and a brush. As I did, Billie drew some of the symbols I would need to draw on a piece of paper, with approximate sizes and information on which ones to not draw next to each other, and which ones would need to be done in blood. All in all, there were a lot of symbols, to ward against angels and demons and different creatures and anything else that Billie thought Lucifer might try to send after me.

"Do you really think he's going to come looking?" I asked. "He sent me to the Arctic Circle, after all. He I'd be more useful subservient, and we both know I wouldn't do that."

"I just chose sides, Kylie." Billie responded. "And against Lucifer, of all people. I'd prefer to keep my own ass protected, now, so whether he comes looking or not we're going to make sure everything is set up just in case."

So I drew Devil's Traps and a few Reaper Traps and different symbols and sigils (both ones that Billie had given me and some extras I remembered specifically against the Darkness) and cut my hands I don't know how many different times for the ones that required blood, specifically, to make. I put up at least three Angel-banishing sigils in each room of the house, after Billie made a stop at a hospital and brought me some bagged blood to use so I didn't kill myself in the process. I learned what different sigils she gave me to draw meant, how to put them, and for a few what specific words to say as I made them to ensure they worked properly.

"Huius artis, ut domum hanc." I murmured, dipping a new paintbrush in to a blood bag to draw the last symbol on the floor of the basement. "Sanguine meo meam protegam. His verbis sanctificare terram."

When I finished, the symbol glowed brightly for a moment, then dissipated. Billie clapped behind me, snapping me out of my reverie. "I know I didn't show you that one." She stated, glancing down at what I'd drawn.

"What is it?" I asked. I knew what I'd said, I knew what it meant, (With this art, I protect this house. With this blood, I protect my own. With these words, I sanctify this land.) but I didn't understand what it was for.

"Call it an overall protection sigil." She said. "Like a good general warding against most things."

"Great." I said, looking back at her. "Am I done? Is it all good?"

"I feel a little itchy being in this house." She answered. "So you're golden, girl."

"Great." I repeated. "Now what?"

"Now you rest." She ordered. As she spoke, I felt myself getting dizzy. I slumped down slightly, feeling sudden nausea. "You still don't know how to work your power. You're just tapping in to it randomly, and using whatever you can. You need to learn how to control it, that way this stops happening." She stood there, waiting until I felt better enough to get back up.

"How?" I asked.

"Rest first." She repeated. "I've never met a witch that did good when she was in the state you're in. Find a place to sleep, and we'll figure out the rest tomorrow."

I agreed without another word, and wandered back upstairs. The dead woman was still there, at the foot of the stairs, still reeking. I made a mental note to bury her tomorrow as best as I could, and wandered up past her to see if there was a bedroom or guest room upstairs.

I was too drained to care that I was walking past a dead woman in her own house, with a Reaper in the house with me.


	13. Reaper Magic

Reaper magic was different from what I'd been working with in tracking and basic healing. It was all about death and movement and spirits... pretty much a middle school slumber party horror night on steroids.

"Reapers go wherever they please," Billie explained. "And aide those who need it. We take the hands of souls, and walk them to Heaven or Hell if they chose, or leave them there for the Veil."

"Do you choose where they go?" I asked. Billie shook her head.

"We can more of see it, when we touch them. There'll be a light that surrounds the deceased, kind of like an aura that only a Reaper can see."

"Dean didn't say anything about an aura when he played Reaper for a day." I commented. Billie just laughed.

"Dean Winchester..." she shook her head. "Did he tell you about the mess he made of that day?" This time I shook my head, and Billie laughed again. "Dean Winchester isn't a Reaper, Kylie. Though he may have played at being one, my father didn't create him." Billie let out a small sigh. "Just tried to teach him a lesson that he never fully grasped."

"Which was?" I asked.

"That death exists for a reason." She stated. "And that a lot of bad can come from messing with the natural order of things."

"But isn't it good for them to save people?"

"Not always." Billie answered. From her tone, I could sense that our conversation was over. Instead, we moved on to how to see spirits, without having to necessarily summon them and without them having to make themselves seen.

The best I was able to manage was blurry shapes, after murmuring a few words. At one point, I thought I almost saw Kevin, but Billie told me that he wasn't here, he was still bound to the ring his mother had.

Over the next few weeks, she did her best to teach me as Reapers could. She showed me how to separate my consciousness from my body, and move about as a ghost. She showed me how to tell which ingredients matched better with others versus some of the hypotheticals I'd worked with. She taught me different spells to speak to the deceased by bringing their souls back to their bodies for the briefest of moments, as well as how to "borrow" the power of a soul.

That one was a little more dangerous than intended, and burned off all the hair on the lower left side of my body.

On the bright side, free laser hair removal treatment, I guess.

Billie taught me about life and death, taught me how the world works within those aspects, and how to move within it at a pace you control instead of just being swept along by its currents.

"There are two main aspects of souls that are all within a person." Billie explained on a different day. I was dying my hair a different color with cheap dye that Billie had handed to me that morning. My options from blonde were purple, black, or red. I chose a mix of all three - a heavy black dominance with red and purple streaks intermixed. I figured if I was going to look like a punk, I better go all in. I was washing it out over the sink as she sat at the table next to me, still talking. "There's the part that contains their humanity – their morals and reasoning and choices and emotions. When a soul is forcibly taken from another, that is the most powerful part of it, and that is the part that is taken."

"Like when Sam lost his?" I asked, remembering some of what the brothers and Cas had told me. Billie nodded out of the corner of my eye.

"Then there's the part that hold the memories of a person, their identity, and their choices." She continued. "Everything that they were, everything they saw themselves as, and everything they will be and view themselves as in the future is stored there. If that part is taken, you have an empty person, a catatonic one with no sense of self or purpose."

"Like when someone is brain dead?" I asked, trying to wash out the last of the excess dye.

"Quite similar, yes." Billie agreed.

"So which part do you reap?" I grabbed a nearby towel, wrapping my hair in it so it could dry for a while.

"I take all of it." Billie answered. "Every part of a person's soul is what travels to Heaven or Hell. When a person's soul is sold to a demon, they take a small part of both sides, almost as a guiding point, so that the person doesn't change but when they die," I was starting to understand what she meant, so when she trailed off I tried to fill in the blanks.

"It's like when the souls were released back to their owners." I stated, turning to face her. "They seek to be whole again, so they go back to where the rest of them is, and if it's already in Hell than it's like the easiest express elevator ever."

"The synonym is odd," the Reaper commented. "But accurate."

"Ok." I nodded, thinking it through. "So why are we talking souls today?"

"Because that is what Amara feeds on." She answerd. "And what Lucifer tortures."

"Oh." I sat down across from her, thinking. "What are we doing?"

"You are doing nothing but observing." Billie answered. "You still do not quite understand how to control your powers yet."

"Can you show me how?" I asked. She shook her head.

"Only another witch could do that."

"What about Rowena?"

"I cannot find her." She answered.

"But didn't you find Dean and Crowley?"

"I delivered a package to a spot Crowley told me to be at, a door to hell." She corrected. "It is my job to know where every door to heaven, hell, or purgatory is, and as for Dean," she shrugged. "He was just the delivery boy. It was fun to watch him sing, though."

"Alright." I dropped the Rowena angle. "So how do we get me proper witch training?"

"You're the witch." She reminded me. "Shouldn't you have an answer to that?"

"Do I look like I do?" I countered.

"How were you receiving training in the first place?"

"I wasn't." I answered. "I was researching in the Bunker and testing whatever looked more or less doable."

"And the sigil in the basement? Or you summoning me? Or how you threw Castiel off of you like he was a rag doll?" She asked. I shrugged.

"I don't know." I answered honestly. "Those were all kind of… Instinctual. Like they were correct, and somehow I knew they were correct."

We both sat and thought about that for a moment, trying to figure out what it all meant (or at least I was. For all I knew, with Billie's lack of changing facial expressions, she could've been pondering ordering a pizza).

Then she disappeared.

As in, I blinked and she was gone.

"Billie?" I asked, standing. "Billie!" She was nowhere to be seen.


	14. Contract

She returned in front of me a second later, her hand on the shoulder of a very beat-up looking demon in a suit.

"Crowley?!" I asked, looking over at Billie.

"He owes me a favor." Billie stated. "And, lucky for us, he hates Lucifer and the Darkness."

"Hello, Kai." He said, chipper as could be. "Great to see you again. Congratulations on the upcoming nuptials."

I stalked towards him, then, and socked him across the face. He cradled his cheek in hand, glaring up at me. "OW!" He shouted. Billie let out a soft laugh.

"You were right, Kylie. With Rowena off the board, you need some sort of training." She said. "And hopefully, her son can provide just that while I'm not here."

"Where are you going?" I asked, concerned.

"I may have picked sides, but I still have a job." Billie reminded me. "And Lucifer knew how to trap and control my father. You don't think if he figures out that he'll do the same to me?" She asked. I honestly hadn't thought about that scenario. "Don't worry, I'll be back if it's an emergency. You can still ring on my doorbell, remember?"

"I hope to God that wasn't a euphemism." Crowley muttered, rising. I socked him again, and he went back down to cradling his face and glaring at me. "AGAIN, OW!"

"Play nice." Billie ordered.

Then she disappeared, without another word.

"God, what are you wearing?" Crowley asked, glaring at my outfit. They had been in the dead woman's closet. I'd raided it after burying her.

"Not the same outfit for the past few weeks." I answered sharply, glaring back at him.

"If I stand, are you going to punch me again?"

"Only if you deserve it." I amended. Crowley stood and backed away quickly, so that he was out of my arms reach.

"I'm here to teach you." He reminded me.

"And how do I know you're not working for Lucifer?" I asked. "You're a demon. He made you."

"He would exterminate all demonkind if given the opportunity." Crowley answered. "And he had me chained, subservient as a dog, dressed in the tackiest floral shirt you could ever imagine."

"That's supposed to convince me to trust you?" I asked. He let out a dramatic sigh, and rolled up one of his sleeves.

The skin underneath showed the familiar marks of lacerations and contusions, but in a specific shape. It was a triangle, pointed downwards, with curly bits at the end and a V shape at the bottom intersecting the curls.

"That's the Sigil of Lucifer." Crowley stated, rolling his sleeve back down. "He branded me as his pet, his thing. I was the King of Hell!" Crowley exclaimed. "And that winged bastard made me his slave. I had to lick the floors clean. Now tell me, would you be on his side?"

Fair point.

"Why would you help me?" I asked next.

"Well, I haven't tried to kill you recently, and I was hoping that since you're the only powerful witch left on the playing field that maybe you would be useful." He offered as way of explanation. When I didn't budge, he let out a second sigh, this time exasperated, and continued. "We both want Lucifer and Amara back in their respective cages. You want to know how to control your powers and how to get back that life you had with your fiancé," Crowley threw his hands in the air. "What more do you want from me? A written contract?!"

"Actually, yes." I stated, sitting back down. "A written contract outlining the terms of how we operate together probably wouldn't be the worst idea."

Crowley perked up then, taking the seat Billie had previously claimed. "Now this is something unexpected." He stated, procuring a pen and yellow legal pad. "Outline your terms. Please."

"My soul is off the table." I said automatically.

"That was to be expected. I have considered a viable substitute instead of a typical soul deal."

"Which is?"

"I want information."

"Like what?"

"I'll think of questions to ask." He assured me. When I tried to argue, he held up a finger. "You will, of course, retain the right to deny giving an answer, but you can't do that for all questions." I didn't speak, thinking this over for a moment.

"I want things too." I stated.

"Like what?"

"I have a list." I answered with a smile. "And if you'll give me my own pen and paper I'll write it down for you."

He obliged, tearing off a piece of yellow paper and sliding across to me. A pen came next, from an inside pocket on his suit. I wrote down a few things, with information being at the top. Second was protection. Third was my notes on the Darkness. I'd kept them all saved on my laptop, encrypted in a way so that only I could get to them.

The last thing on my list were my knives. Call it sentimentality, but they were also angel blades. I wasn't going to say no to having those back in my possession.

I tore off my list and slid it over to Crowley. He read it over quickly, and looked at me with disdain. "Did you really just waste a whole sheet of paper to write down…" He paused for a moment, counting. "Six words and four numbers?" He asked.

"I left you space to write what you want as well." I responded. "That way we can start a civil negotiation."

He sighed (for the third time, I noted) dramatically, and began scribbling as well. I sat across from him calmly, the wheels in my head spinning rapidly. I was making a deal with a demon. I was doing the one thing I had been dead set against doing.

After a few minutes he slid me back the list, and I read his requests. Information and protection were at the tops of his as well, with access to my notes being third and the fourth simply saying "an associate."

"What do you mean by associate?" I asked.

"Do we have a deal?" He responded.

"Not until I know what associate means." I responded. There was no way in hell I was selling myself as a slave under a fancy name.

"Like I said, I need a new witch, one with power." He said. "You called Billie, manifested scratch marks on your arm from a lack of magical use, and didn't die when Castiel was an attack dog. You have, or at least had, an angel at your beck and call. You should've died, but you didn't, and on more than one occasion. Something about you is different, like the way Castiel hasn't died permanently."

"You want to use me." I said simply.

"I want Lucifer back in his infernal kennel, but I can't do it myself." He responded. "Rowena was the only witch that could open and close the cage."

"I'll want your witch necklace thing destroyed." I said.

"I'd rather keep it as my protection." He countered. I was about to argue, but he cut me off. "Which would only be used if you made an attempt to cross or kill me, first."

I sat back, thinking. I wanted Castiel back. He wanted Lucifer gone. But there was something we were both missing. "What about the Darkness?" I asked. "Lucifer is supposedly the only one that can lock it back up."

Crowley shrugged. "We cage him after he does that for us." He amended. "Or before if you become powerful enough to do it on your own."

I mulled it over, thinking through all the variables. We would be at an uneasy truce, for a long time. "I'll need to remain dead, in the eyes of Lucifer, Castiel, and the Winchesters." I pointed out. "Lucifer knows that I know, and I don't know if the Winchesters know or not. None of them can know I'm alive until it's safe for them to."

"Lucifer's probably already taken care of that." Crowley pointed out. "But if you're only reported missing then I'll just leak a story about a frozen girl. Now," he leaned forwards, lacing his fingers together before motioning to the paper in front of me. I looked down at it, and suddenly it was no longer a yellow piece of lined paper, but an actual contract. "Do we have a deal?"

I read through it, verifying a few things. My dad had been a lawyer. I'd learned how to read these after mom died. I knew how to check for harmful discrepancies. Everything was as it should've been.

"I want three copies for myself." I said calmly. He motioned to where the rest of the notepad had been. In it's place was three copies of the same contract, all awaiting my signature. They already had his written on it.

I read through all three of the copies to ensure that they read the same, and signed them without another second's thought. The original went to Crowley, and he stuffed it in a pocket within his coat. I took the other three and folded them neatly, placing them in my jeans pocket.

"Great." Crowley said, smiling at me. "Looks like we're partners now. Care to start a few rounds of the question game?"

"Only if you answer the ones I have as well." I responded. He smiled an annoyed parent smile, and motioned for me to continue.

That was how I spent my first day in the demon's company, talking and trading information. At one point I got up and retrieved a heavy blanket from the other room, wrapping myself up in the item as I rejoined the demon. I was smart, though. I made sure that I kept enough ones unanswered so that he wouldn't be holding all the cards.

Then again, Crowley was smart too. He wrote down every question I didn't answer. Where are Sam and Dean now? What kinds of items are stored in the bunker? How did I call Billie so effectively? How did I escape Cas? Names, locations, different odd things that my gut told me to hold on to for a little while longer.

When I asked, though, he surprisingly held nothing back. The demon truly had nothing to hide.

Finally, as it grew dark outside, we came down to the last few questions, and we both knew it. "Why train me, specifically, and not some random person off the street?" I asked.

"Like I said, you're special." He answered. "There's something about you that makes fate want to keep you around, for some reason, and something else that has you already set up with a fair amount of power. Why do you want your knives back, specifically, and not just some new ones?"

"They're important to me." I said. "Gifts that I've worked hard to maintain and keep safe. I wouldn't feel comfortable not having them. How long do you intend on having us stay here?"

"We leave tomorrow for a secondary safehouse. I'll make sure clothes are provided for you there." He told me. I felt a little dejected. I'd actually worked hard to set this one up. "We'll keep this one on the backburner as an 'in case of emergency' zone, but I would rather put my faith in protecting an asset somewhere I'm familiar with." I could see the logic in that. "Are you willing to accept the fact that in doing this, we might still end up killing Castiel?"

I hadn't been expecting that question. I paused, thinking it over in my head. I wasn't really sure about that, in all honesty. "I don't know." I decided to say. "I think I'll need more time on that question before I answer."

"Fair enough." Crowley conceded.

"When do I start my training with you?" I asked.

"Tomorrow, when we arrive at the safehouse. What will you do if The Darkness comes knocking?"

I stopped to think about that one as well. There were a few symbols and sigils and spells that I had found to ward an area against her, but if she showed up they would probably become moot, and then I would have nothing. No symbols or charms or anything. "Then we run like hell until we figure out a new plan." Maybe a Tulpa, imagined to defeat the Darkness? No, the universe requires balance, like Billie had explained, and that would offset the balance. "Where's the safehouse located?"

"Utah. Another backwoods place. Also a cabin not too far away from food and water. What will you do if the Winchesters spot you?"

"Your job is to make sure they don't." I pointed out.

"Say fate decides otherwise." He said. "I'm only asking a hypothetical, here. What plan do you have if the Winchesters find you?"

"I'll change my appearance." I decided, motioning to my now dried and not half-bad looking hair. "I've already colored my hair, I could wear makeup when I go out, dress differently, wear colored contacts. If you can get me one I'll even carry an I.D. under a different name. If I'm actually good at magic at that point then I'll either make them forget seeing me or just disguise myself like that."

"Clever." Crowley nodded his approval. I felt slightly sick at the sight of doing something he considered smart.

"What will you do, if the Winchesters start asking you questions?" I asked. I knew they would call him eventually. They always did.

"I'll just be myself." He answered. "Oh, what a pity. Darkness looming over us. Let's get back to work again." He thought for a moment before asking another question. "What if Lucifer finds you? He'll still look like your angel."

"I'll do the same thing for the Winchesters, maybe add in some protection for my mind." I remembered the psychic-proof necklace I'd made. I didn't have it with me, I hadn't been wearing it when Lucifer booted me out, but I knew I could make another one.

"That won't work." He said. "Angels can sense a person at the atomic level, by the imprint their soul leaves on the space around them. If you're there and he sees you, he'll know it's you."

"Is there a spell that can hide me or change that?"

"I don't know. I'm not a witch." He said, smirking like the devil he was. "If he catches you, will you keep our deal a secret or spill?"

"Secret. You?"

"Secret." He agreed. "Do you have any more questions?"

"Is there a way you can keep tabs on the Winchesters for me?" I asked. "Without them knowing?"

"Why?"

"I'm afraid of what Lucifer will do to them if he feels the need to." I answered. "And they're just as important, if not more, as I am. Dean bears the mark, and has a connection to Amara. Sam is the one that ensured her freedom, and who Lucifer will jump for if Cas becomes a bust."

"I will make attempts to keep track of them." He said. "Anything else?"

"Do the Winchesters already know about Casifer?" I asked. Crowley snickered at the new nickname.

"Oh yeah." He said. "And boy did he throw a fit. How do you think the Winchesters will react when they learn that you're a witch, and not just a girl pretending to be one because she can do a few spells?"

"They're family." I reminded him. "They'll be supportive." I knew they would understand. They've made difficult decisions before. "How did they learn about Lucifer riding shotgun?"

And then Crowley told me everything that Lucifer had ranted to him about, everything he had said while taking his anger out on the demon.

I tried to not let it sting that Castiel had managed to break through for Sam, but hadn't for me.

"How do you feel, knowing this information?" Crowley asked. I thought for a moment before shaking my head.

"I'd rather not answer that." I stated. He shrugged, and I went on to ask my next question. "How many other demons know about this?"

"Top secret, for the King's eyes only." He answered. "Lucifer has already gotten to the rest of them." Great. "Do you still remember how to make those demon killing bags my mother made?"

"The Bind and Purge ones?" I clarified. Crowley nodded. "Yeah."

"Would you use them?"

I thought hard on that one, but once I did, I realized that I shouldn't have had to. "Yes." I said, wishing that I could've honestly said no. "How are you getting the clothes?" I asked, changing topics. Crowley looked confused for a moment. "You said that new clothes would be provided in Utah."

"They were Amara's. At one point she grew to approximately your size, and we had her in the Utah safehouse then. The clothes are still there, as are the rest of the human toiletries that I was surprised she would need." I wasn't sure how to feel about wearing the cast-offs of God's sister, but I figured there were worse things to deal with. "Now, I believe this trade of information is sadly, closed." He declared, standing. "We leave tomorrow."

"How're we getting from Indiana to Utah?" I asked.

"The same way you called Billie, and how Billie got you from the Arctic Circle to here." He answered. "Magic."

I nodded, and got up from the chair to walk towards the fireplace. It was dark in color, with no flames burning in it yet. I grabbed a few logs that were stacked next to it and started a fire, hoping to find comfort and warmth in the flames. Once it was crackling comfortably, I took a seat in front of it, just thinking. I looked at my hands and arms, fresh new cuts adorning each one in my work to everything-proof the place.

Kylie was dead, officially. Kai and Kylie Dillinger were both dead, now. One like a phoenix, and the other one encased in ice. I didn't have any other identities to turn to.

With going to Kai, it was like I was accepting my new life – accepting that I was homeless and on the run; accepting that I had nobody else but me at that point. When I went to my name, with the Winchesters and Cas, it was as though I was accepting my new family, accepting having a family in general again and a life and something other than homelessness and running.

But I couldn't go by either of those again. Dean and Sam and Cas and, now by extension Lucifer, knew those. I would need something new. Something to get comfortable with and go by, so that I would draw less suspicion.

I kept staring at the fire, thinking through everything I knew. Thinking about my situation, my family, everything. I never thought I would be working with a demon, with CROWLEY of all people? Hadn't I been promising to kill him not too long ago?

Then again, not too long ago I also saw Castiel. I gave him a hug and kiss before he left. I had talked with Sam and Dean. I'd been doing research, reading books, been doing normal hunter things.

But I wouldn't be a hunter, not anymore. I was going to be a witch now. I would be trained by the son of the greatest witch that had ever lived, the only witch that could've opened Lucifer's cage. Everything that I had known had literally just burned around me in hellfire.

Things changed, and fast.

"The name on the identity," I started, turning to Crowley. He was still sitting at the table, this time with a book that had appeared at some point. He glanced up at me.

"You have a preference?" He asked.

"Diana," I replied. "Diana Nyx."

"Any particular reason?"

"Diana is the Goddess of the Hunt, in Roman Mythology." I said, forgoing the fact that it was also like my middle name.

"And Nyx?" He asked.

"Nyx is the Greek Goddess of the night." I replied. "Aren't witches supposed to be dark?"

"You are going to be fun to work with, I can tell." He said, his voice dripping sarcasm. "Diana Nyx. Are you sure?"

"Yes." I replied. I didn't even hesitate to think about it. Crowley had killed Kai, and now I was killing Kylie. Together, we'd make Diana Nyx.

And I'd be a force to fear, by then.


	15. Infierno

I focused my energies on candle in front of me. This would be the hundredth time I'd tried doing this in a week, the hundredth time I felt sweat break out across my skin as I felt my blood boiling, felt the flames I was trying so hard to summon lick themselves around my body, burning me alive both inside and out.

I closed my eyes, imagining that candle, imagining how a lit candle would look. I focused those feelings of warmth and fire and boiling and heat on the idea of the small flame atop that candle. I kept my focus solely on that. I couldn't let my mind wander.

I pushed my hand out towards the candlewick, the movement jerky as I focused everything on the single little bit of cloth attached to the wax. " _Infierno_." I whispered, pushing as hard as I could to force everything out towards the candle.

I heard a small poof, and smelled smoke immediately. When I opened my eyes, the candle wasn't alight. However, the curtains decorating the window about seven feet behind it were burning profusely.

"DAMMIT!" I shouted, jumping up and grabbing the water bucket I had filled next to me. I threw it on the flames hurriedly, and stuck my hand out as Crowley had shown me to "reign in your power manifested" as he'd said.

In the process, I also burned my hand. Again. For about the thirtieth time. I hadn't managed to light anything the first fourty-two times doing this. The next seventeen after that I had only managed to give myself first degree burns. The next four were third degree burns, again on myself. I'd melted the candle twice mixed in with those.

The other 30-odd times I'd been doing this I no longer burned myself, but managed to set every other thing in the damn cabin apart from the candlewick, and that included lighting the candle itself on fire twice. Not the candlewick. Not even solely melting the candle from pure heat instead of a fire. But literally lighting the damn candle in to a small inferno, and the melted wax continued to burn for a solid five minutes after that. If I got burned, it was from reigning the fires in versus summoning them.

The curtains had been the only thing I had not set fire to yet. Now, we would need new ones.

I ignored the pain in my hand, instead focusing on ensuring I stopped up every single spark that had been in that fire. I felt more than saw when it was all gone, and waited an extra minute or two for the feeling of my insides burning to recede before I finally let out a string of swear words, cupping my hand as I did so.

"GOD-FUCKING-DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!" I finished, letting out a low hiss afterwards as I made my way to the small bathroom so I could run cool water over my hand.

"You rang?" I heard Crowley ask from the doorway in the kitchen. He had been dipping in and out, searching for a hand of God. "What did you set on fire this time?"

"Curtains finally bit the ashes."

"I liked those curtains."

"Go purchase new ones." I turned off the water, examining the burns on my hand.

"Did you burn yourself again?"

"My hand."

"Killing the flames?"

"Yep."

"If you can do it once without burning yourself you can do it again." He said. I heard some things clatter on the table I had been previously sitting at, and I walked out of the bathroom to glare at him.

"No shit, Sherlock." I told him, examining the box he'd placed on the table. It was wrapped up in plain grey wrapping paper, and had my name scrawled across in red sharpie. A small red bow was on the top. "It's not my birthday." I said, not even bothering to glance at the calendar behind me.

"No, but we did have a deal." He said. "And I do prefer to keep my end of the bargain."

Curious, I picked up the box. It wasn't big, maybe about the size of a bread box, but it definitely had some weight to it. Unwrapped it quietly, and opened the cardboard box to see three items. My daggers, nestled in their sheathes, and a small thumbdrive in between the two.

"You got them." I muttered, looking up at him. I was almost happy, almost excited, but then I remembered who was in front of me.

"It was a part of the deal." He said simply.

"Thank you." The words slipped out quietly. I didn't realize I'd even said them until I registered the fleeting look of surprise on Crowley's face.

"You're welcome." He said gruffly. Then his face smoothed over back to that business look. "I'll have a laptop for you tomorrow. The flash drive contains all the information you'd collected on the Darkness."

"Including everything on my laptop?" I asked.

"You mean those encrypted files of yours?" He asked. I nodded. "They were hell to transfer on to there, but they should transfer on to the new computer smoothly. The JPEGS are pictures of your handwritten notes and pictures and that hunter's map you'd made to try and track Amara. What are those symbols that you wrote in, anyhow?"

"Pictish Swirl." I replied calmly, picking up the daggers. The arm belts and waist belt were still attached, even! "How did you get these?"

"It was all moved to your apartment, thanks to Lucifer. I just risked my life going in and stealing it all. Why Pictish Swirl?"

"You didn't recognize it." I pointed out. "Neither did the boys, and I'm betting neither did Lucifer. Are you certain he still is unaware of my being here?"

"I constantly keep wardings on myself against mental intrusion and tracking, and tend to search my clothes frequently. Where did you learn to write these scribbles?"

"Internet." I replied with a smirk. He huffed out an "of course." "How are Sam and Dean doing?"

"They're fine, for the most part." He said. "They took a case recently in California. Silicon Valley. Something about a ghost and executive power plays. They don't talk about you a lot." I stopped examining my blades to look at him. "They didn't want to give up your daggers, either. I told them it was because they weren't being used by them, so why not give them to me?" I pretended that I didn't care they would give the items up so easily. "When did you heal your hand?" Crowley asked. I looked down at it quickly, and saw that there were no more burn marks.

"I didn't know I could do that." I said. The last few times I'd burnt myself I'd either waited for the burns to heal or Crowley had healed them. "How did I do that?"

"Beats me." He said with a shrug. "You still can't light a candlewick on fire, but somehow you can burn everything else."

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong." I said, setting my daggers back in their places. One on each arm, concealed by the long dark sleeves of my jacket. All the clothes Crowley had had for Amara were darker ones. Blacks and dark blues and reds and dark purples and no familiar jeans, no familiar flannel. Only dark clothes.

I was thankful at this moment for the long sleeves, though. The longest that the skirts went were to my knees, and the shoes (which were surprisingly just a half size larger than my own) weren't good for hiding any as well. I had been keeping my spare around my hips, hidden by my skirt. But I missed the familiar arm riggings for my daggers.

"I felt a tremendous amount of power flowing a little bit ago, while I was coming back to the cabin. I'm guessing you were the source." He stated. I nodded. "But when you healed your hand, you weren't focusing on anything. You were feeling… I'm guessing good feelings."

"Don't flatter yourself." I muttered, not answering. He was right, I'd been pretty happy and excited. I'd been overjoyed for a minute at the thought of seeing something so familiar like my daggers.

"But those daggers aren't a part of the Diana you created." He continued, ignoring my comment. "They're a part of Kylie, a part of you that was happy and in control of your life."

"Kylie is dead." I said.

"Yes, but at the same time, you're holding on to the parts that were her. The name Diana, for the huntress, and the hunting life that you made in to your home. The daggers, a gift from the Winchesters and Castiel, that you took time to preserve and even improve to make yourself better acclimated to their world. Even dating the angel was you plunging headfirst in to their world, surrounding yourself with it. And the keeping tabs on the Winchesters." He added as an afterthought. I bit my tongue, deciding to let him continue speaking.

"You're not letting go." Crowley stated. "You're not burying it. You prosper better when you embrace your past, and allow it to be a part of you instead of fighting it."

"So who am I, then? I'm supposed to be a witch, but I also still hold on to what made me a hunter, and I can't certainly be both because a hunter would kill me if they met me and knew who I was." I started. "I'm not a normal person, not anymore. I know too much, and I've seen too much. I'm not even dead, but I should've been multiple times over. What am I supposed to be, Crowley?" I was frustrated. I was upset. I could feel my emotions flowing through me like an unending river.

"You're currently Diana Nyx." He responded. "And you're not a witch yet, just learning how to. A good witch can both use their emotions and set them aside. Try lighting the candle again," he motioned to the frustrating object that still remained on the table. "And this time don't summon so much energy. Don't try to force it all out at the candle. Instead let only a tiny bit of yourself go." I turned towards the candle, thinking about what he was saying.

"You've had to abandon large portions of your identity, it's what you used to, but it won't work for this. You can't shove everything out, dive in headfirst, and expect it all to work. You have to go piece by piece. Think of something that made you feel warm, comforted, and let it go in to the fire to light the wick." He said.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and imagined what he was saying; only giving away a small piece, sharing a little bit of myself to make this work instead of trying to throw everything I had at the task. I focused on imagining that candle wick again, lit up and full of flames. This time, though, I added a memory to it. Where the candle was.

It was a cold night, but I was warm anyways. There were candles all around us, all lit. We'd had a small picnic, but were mostly just enjoying each other's company. We talked a little, stared up at the stars for what seemed like a perfect eternity, and talked a little more. Little things, things that mattered more than anything because they defined who we were. It was a perfect night. I was never cold.

Castiel's arms were wrapped around me as we laid back and looked at the stars. I couldn't have been cold if I'd tried.

I felt the memory drift away from me, soft flames tinging the edges as I kept my focus back on the candle. I opened my eyes, and saw the candlewick lit with a small flame. I didn't even have to say a word.

"You thought of Castiel." Crowley stated simply. I stared at the flame, unsure how to answer for a moment.

"It worked." Was all I said.

"And it only took you 101 tries to do it." He commented dryly, snapping his fingers. The flame was gone in an instant, extinguished by him.

I didn't answer. I just stood there, a little unsure of what to think. The girl in that memory, the one that was supposed to be me… She wouldn't recognize me. I'd changed my name, dyed my hair, and even gotten a set of colored contacts from a gas station for when I left the cabin. I'd left my flannel and jeans and tennis shoes for dark clothes worn by an all-powerful entity and black flats, or black shoes with slight heel.

She wouldn't recognize the change in my eyes.

She wouldn't even recognize me.

"What's next?" I said after a few more moments.

"Well, you've got short spoken spells down, now. Once you can do fire you can do all the short spoken and longer spoken, following the same pattern." Crowley glanced at me approvingly. "It usually takes most new witches much more time to summon fire, much less reign it back in. Congratulations. Now, we move on to hex bags and minor unspoken spells." He smiled. "But first, back to town for more supplies."

"You just came from being out." I stated dryly.

"Yes, but you haven't." He said. "We're going to disguise you further."

"How?"

"Hex bags and unspoken words." He repeated, throwing his hands in the air. "Honestly, it's not that hard to figure out."


	16. Chess

Under Crowley's tutelage, I prospered. Learning witchcraft and demonic magic from a demon was different than learning Reaper ways from a Reaper. When Billie had been instructing me, it was all about the balance of nature, and learning to move within that balance. I learned to respect Death as a being and a force; a fact of life that I could either deny every day or accept and learn to work with. It was never about control, only about understanding and balance.

With Crowley, it was about knowing the outcomes, preparing for multiple scenarios, and being able to think on the fly. It was all about control, about shifting the scales to my favor and keeping them that way. Shifting my identity, controlling others, moving from spoken to unspoken where I could so that it was all just a matter of habit, like breathing. Crowley's style was all about taking control and keeping it, be it within my own magic or the outcomes of using it.

It was almost a warrior's style of learning magic, except it lacked the ferocity and fight of one. Where when I'd learned hunting from Dean and Sam, I'd learned to fight, and not stop. I'd learned to lack fear, and to push back against the world around me until something finally good came out of it. And with Billie, it was simply about acceptance and movement – acknowledging what was and what is and what could be, then choosing whether to act and what to do. With Crowley, it was moving like a fly on the wall, almost – being able to move through the world, as Billie had taught me, except instead of watching changing things until the situation was better suited to my whims, and to keep going until I had my opponent in checkmate.

Unsurprisingly, we played chess frequently. Crowley's teachings involved learning how to outmaneuver my opponent, after all. If I was to beat Lucifer and Amara, I was going to need to out-think them.

"Checkmate." Crowley stated, knocking over my king again. "What's the score?"

I didn't answer. He knew how far ahead he was.

"If this was poker," I mused, re-setting the board.

"I would still win." Crowley declared. I glared at him as I moved the pieces back to their familiar places.

"Dean taught me how to play, and Sam taught me pool." I reminded him.

"Demons cheat."

"So do Hunters."

"We'll put a pin in this until later." Crowley decided. "For now, though, we're going to play one last round, this time with a twist."

"What's that?" I asked, smirking. "Are we betting who buys pizza?"

"No." Crowley shifted a finger forwards, and I watched as one of his pawns moved forwards two spaces. "You're not going to touch any of the pieces."

"How? I don't know the spell for that yet." I hadn't been taught it yet.

"You threw Dean and Cas." Crowley reminded me. "I'm quite certain you attempted to throw Lucifer."

"I don't know how I did that, though."

"It's the angel grace in you." He explained. "It's made a permanent bond with you."

"So, what, I'm permanently part-angel now?" I asked. Crowley shook his head.

"No, nor are you Nephilim." He answered. "It means that you now have a small, controllable amount of angel grace in you that will work to regenerate itself and preserve itself within you."

"English?" I requested.

"You can do a few things angels can do that most normal witches can't."

"Like?"

"If you win, I'll tell you." He said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. I glanced at the pieces. I was black, second move, always second move. Crowley said it was preferable, to watch your opponent's choices first so you could act accordingly.

In my mind, it didn't matter how you justified being a shitty chess player, you were still a shitty chess player get your ass handed to you by a demon that likes to be the most despicable asshole you've ever met, but you're still forced to work with him because life and the universe and whatever forces out there make things run have some sort of a sense of humor.

I didn't respond to Crowley's decision, though. Instead, I just focused on the chess piece I wanted to move. My knight, two forwards and one to the right. To do that, though, I would have to physically lift it in the air and move it to it's spot.

"This is pointless." I muttered, focusing on the piece.

"Throwing in the towel on this game means that I won't tell you." Crowley reminded me. I focused harder, and watched as the piece vibrated a little in its spot.

Then I watched as it shot straight up in to the air, embedding itself in the ceiling above where it had previously sat.

"You're still putting too much magic in to it." Crowley reminded me. I sighed, standing up to get on my chair. "Sit back down." Crowley said, and out of the corner of my eye I saw his hand motion to the chair I stood on.

I found my ass firmly planted in it a second later, and not voluntarily. "Don't do that again." I requested, my voice taught with frustration.

"Why?"

"Because I told you not to."

"Why shouldn't I?" He asked in response. "You have no possible control here. You can't control your life, can't control your magic, and now can't even control yourself, because I'm doing that." He snickered. "You have no control over anything, no matter how hard you try, and each time you press harder it gets farther and farther away. I don't think you could've even kept control of your relationship with Cas. It's no wonder you're stuck with me, now."

I felt angry, now. No, more than angry, absolutely pissed. I wanted to throw Crowley right out the damn window myself.

" _Stop_." I told him. Crowley just laughed.

"Why? I'm on a roll, now and oh, is this fun. Let's take a look at your whole past, shall we? Let's take a look at all the times you tried to take control of your life, and it all fell apart **right** in front of you. Your engagement to the angel was the most recent, but where did it start?" He asked, tapping a finger to his chin. "Was it when you were homeless and tried to make it, but couldn't quite cut it because all people did was use you?" He asked. "Or was it when you tried to protect Kevin, but I still found you two anyways?"

I struggled against Crowley's mental hold, fighting to break free to no avail.

"Or maybe it was when you tried to protect the angel, but he left you for another woman, and he got sick, and he continued to just leave you. He left you to chase Heaven, he left you to find Dean, he left you after proposing to you to team up with the Devil, for God's sakes!" Crowley reminded me. "And then there was Dean and Sam. They took you in, but left you to babysit a prophet that you failed to protect. They left you alone, in the Bunker, to keep you out of the way because they couldn't bear the sight of you. Sam almost kicked you out for learning magic, and Dean actually did beforehand after you found me in the dungeon. You failed to keep a spot with them, because those two preferred the company of a demon to your own sorry failure of a self." I kept trying to fight back, and watched as small fires lit at random points in the room. Crowley just laughed, though, snuffing them out with ease. "You're failing at even freeing yourself! Instead of getting out of this, what do you do? Light small, insignificant, useless fires that I can take away without even lifting a finger. Face it, no matter what name you go by, be it _Kai_ or _Kylie_ or _Diana_ , no matter where you are or what you do or how you dress or who you're with or what your job is, you're still a failure. You're still the girl who can't protect the people she cares about and who watches them _**die**_ all around her. Your hacker friend, your family, everyone."

I kept fighting, feeling my own rage and fury ball up inside like a small fire. "Shut up." I seethed, struggling physically and mentally. "Just shut up."

"I may not be able to find out where it started, hell, you've probably been like this your whole _insignificant_ bloody life," Crowley decided, ignoring me completely. "But I bet I know where you really learned that lesson well; learned that no matter what you do or how close you are, you will always fail and never get that control you so desperately want." I almost begged him to not say it, but I couldn't.

"It was when you were there, _right next to Kevin_ ," Crowley decided. "Charged to maintain his health, to help him, to _protect_ the prophet, and you couldn't do a damn thing to stop Gadreel from burning him out."

I couldn't help it. I snapped.

I broke Crowley's hold in an instant, flinging an arm out at him. He flew from his chair in to the wall behind him, splintering the wood. "Don't you DARE tell me I don't have control." I ordered, raising my hand high. He, in turn, let out a yelp as his body was flung to the ceiling, looking down on me like a demented decoration. I kept him up there, continuing to speak. "I have had it up to, well, there," I pushed a little harder on Crowley for emphasis. "With you and the way you keep parading about as the know-all for magic and being some sort of witch's saint!" I threw my hands down, glaring at the demon.

"Well…." Crowley fought to get out the words, straining and struggling as he stared at me beneath him. "Done."

I stared at him, confused, until I looked down at my hands. I no longer had one outstretched, and yet the demon was still on the ceiling.

More importantly, he was on the ceiling.

I had him pinned to the ceiling, where he had previously kept me locked within my seat.

And I still had him up there.

As I stood there, contemplating all of this for a moment, I saw exactly what was going on. I could physically feel and sense how I had Crowley up there, what I was doing to keep him there.

Beside Crowley's head was the chess piece I had lodged in the ceiling, waiting for me to pull it down. On a whim, I held a hand up and watched it fall delicately in to it. Crowley watched as well, a mix of pain and amazement on his face.

"Can you let…" He paused, taking a breath in. "Me down now?"

I did the same with him, watching as he floated down gently back to stand in front of me. "Splendid." He said, smoothing out his jacket. "Now," he took his seat again across from me, as though nothing had happened. "Let's play."


	17. We've Got A Plan

I got better, and got better fast. Any spell I could do without speaking, I did without speaking. I could disappear, I could levitate objects and stop them in midair, if I wished, or deflect them wherever I pleased. I could summon fire and wield it as I wanted, as well as manipulate the rest of the elements. I could teleport myself, as angel and demons did, to other places without much effort now. Same with other objects.

When Billie came in to check on how we were doing, I was able to summon, see, and dismiss spirits with much more ease.

I learned control, and quite excellent control at that.

I even re-made my psychic proof necklace, keeping my mind safe from not just psychics this time though, but everything and everyone that tried to get it.

I had hex bag ingredients memorized, as well as different spoken spells that were very effective.

I just… I got better.

I understood how to control it all.

"So where have you been going?" I asked Crowley, noticing him come in as I read a book.

Five feet above the table.

While the scenes from the book were being acted out by the fire that was burning on it's own in the fireplace.

Call it an exercise.

"What do you mean?" Crowley asked. I marked the page in my book, and the fire changed from a dashing sword battle to a finger pointing at the door. I lowered myself down easily.

"You're always coming and going, leaving me with exercises and tasks to work on and complete, or a set amount of research to do." I answered as the finger pointed from him to me to the laptop. I waved a hand at it, and it fell to ash and embers in the fireplace. "This cabin is warded against absolutely everything – angels, demons except for you, creatures, all Reapers except for Billie, and witches save for me. With both of us being on the run from Lucifer, it would be tactically smart for you to be in hiding as well, like you and Billie have both stashed me away, but you're going out and about like a dad getting the morning paper." I stated. "So my big questions are where and why?"

"What do you know about hands of God?" He asked. I sat down at my laptop, pulling up the topic in question. I found a music video, a bunch of church messages, but after I scrolled down more…

"It's stuff that has been touched directly by God." I answered. "Like… Ark of the Covenant, the Rod of Aaron," there wasn't a lot of information at all. "I would probably need a bible to get a good idea of a list. Why?"

"You don't need a list." He answered. "I have one right here." He reached in to one of his inner coat pockets, and pulled out an object wrapped in cloth.

"What is that?" I asked.

"The Horn of Joshua." He answerd, unwrapping the cloth. I watched as he made sure to not touch the object directly, though.

It looked kind of like a horn that the Norse would blow in to summon other warriors.

"I wasn't a religious kid." I stated. "Kinda sorta didn't believe in any of this until, you know, Cas was God and you tried to kill me. So… What is that?"

"The Horn of Joshua is, well… a horn that you blow in to to make noise. It was created by the prophet Joshua during the siege of Jericho, and God touched it at some point or other." Crowley shrugged. "I'm a demon. I'm not supposed to know the details on this stuff. It goes against my own beliefs."

"Alright." I shrugged, deciding I could just look up the information later. "So what's it supposed to do?"

"If you directly hold it and touch it, then you are blessed with the power of God, for a moment." He answered. "Only has one use, though."

"Alright."

"And Dean and Sam have been looking for these to fight the Darkness." He continued, catching my attention much more. I hadn't found anything on trapping her effectively. I knew that God had originally, with the help of his archangels, but since God was MIA and we only had one archangel…

Maybe some God power was exactly what we needed.

"What's their plan?" I asked.

"I don't know." Crowley answered. "I've been keeping tabs, but I haven't gone to see them yet."

"Ouch. Poor boys."

Crowley wrapped the Horn back up, and placed it within his coat once more. "Care to play a game?" He asked, motioning to the chess board beside me. I shut down my laptop and complied, knowing that this was how he preferred to talk strategy and exchange information.

This time, he set up the board, waving a hand over it as the pieces moved to their respective locations.

"What's going on?" I asked, noticing that he had set it up so I went first this time.

"Lets play." He repeated. I nodded, and moved one of my pawns forwards. Neither of us touched the pieces as we played, now. I didn't need to, and I think Crowley just preferred to not if he could.

As we played, he kept talking.

"The last time the Darkness was locked up, like you know, God worked with Lucifer and other archangels to win." Crowley started, moving a pawn forwards as well. I countered with a knight, forwards and to the left. "This time around, we have a singular archangel that hates God, but was there originally, in the vessel of a normal angel that said yes."

At the mention of Castiel, I twisted around the ring I still wore. I couldn't help but wear it. I wasn't willing to get rid of it, in all honesty. It was the only thing I had left.

"And that singular archangel," the demon continued. "Happens to also still be the one that wants to re-start the apocalypse, except with Michael a caged wreck he'll be a shoe-in for the world."

"So, either way the world is screwed?" I asked, examining the board for a moment. He had continued to move his pawns forward as we talked, moving their line forwards so that they were staggered and uniform. My moves had been to release the more powerful pieces I had in the back, so that I could try for his fast.

"Quite so, yes." Crowley agreed, moving his last pawn forwards to match the style of the others. "However, I believe we might be able to circumvent God and the archangels."

"How so?" Crowley just tapped his jacket pocket for an answer.

"If we expel Lucifer back to his cage," Crowley offered. "Then we could have Castiel wield the Horn against Amara."

"What makes you think he'll be able to win?"

"God has put him back together again enough times, the angel must be special for some reason." Crowley stated. "Maybe he has more power than he knows. Maybe God will finally step in to help. I'm not certain."

"But you think it's worth the risk."

"No matter what, we need to get rid of Lucifer." Crowley argued. "Amara just wants to destroy everything. Lucifer wants chaos for the sake of chaos and daddy issues."

"Couldn't you say the same for Amara on brother issues?" I asked, moving my rook. Crowley had me down two pawns already, but I had him down one bishop.

"Yes, but she's more calculated in her decisions." Crowley said. "She choses to sustain herself and prove points. She wants God to come back as well, so that she can tell him off face-to-face before beating him to the ground. Lucifer prefers the big guy gone so he can do as he wishes."

"So what's your plan?"

Crowley continued to explain as we played, deciding that he wanted Lucifer off the board entirely. We got near the endgame, with me about to have the demon in checkmate thanks to a rook, two pawns, and my queen. Crowley had a bishop, a pawn, and a second bishop that was about to be removed.

"So, if Lucifer was the one that was there the first time," I asked, finished off that bishop. "Why do you want to get rid of him? Wouldn't he be the strategic choice to wield the Horn?"

"How do we know, with his hatred of God, that he wouldn't use it on us and join with Amara?" He asked in response, maneuvering his king to a semi-safe position.

"So what's your plan with the Hand?" I moved my queen to trap him in that spot, glancing up at the demon. He said nothing, just stared at me. "Wait, what?" I asked, understanding him now.

"You're the most powerful witch out there, now." He said. "You've been trained by a Reaper and a demon. You have angel magic within you that won't disappear." Crowley shrugged. "Lucifer is a wild card. You would be our best bet at winning the fight, if he were removed."

"I thought it burned up humans after use."

"I'm quite confident you can control it." Crowley assured me. "Besides, afterwards, if you live, you'll get everything back. An angelic fiancé, the Wondertwins as family, everything." He assured me, moving a pawn to intercept my queen.

"And if I don't make it?" I asked. "Or if I fail?"

"We'll just have to hope that doesn't happen." Crowley answered. I took his pawn with my knight, placing him in checkmate.

His piece fell over as we watched, gauging my reactions.

"So you've just been making me in to a weapon?" I asked. He shrugged.

"So was Billie." He reminded me. "Neither of us hid this, and you know it."

He was right, though. I knew that this wasn't just protection and training. I knew they would want me to fight, would want a replacement Rowena.

"Alright." I agreed. "I'll do it."

"Excellent." Crowley stood from the table, and pulled out his phone. I waved a hand at the board, and knew it was all back in the small back room I called my own, on my nightstand, set up and neatly put away.

"Who are you calling?"

"Ghostbusters." Crowley answered off-handedly, motioning for me to stay quiet. "Dean, Merry Christmas, I have a present for you. How would you like to get rid of Amara and Lucifer?" I sat back, deciding to cast out my consciousness to hear Dean's end as Crowley kept talking. "Are you not hearing me? I said I have in my possession the solution to our collective problems. You should be doing a jig!"

I felt my mind be transported to somewhere I hadn't been in a while – the Bunker. I saw Dean sitting at the B.A.M.T., his ear to his own phone.

"I don't jig." Dean stated. "Now, how do I know you even escaped Lucifer and he's not making you say all this?" I smiled a little. I had asked the same thing.

"Honestly, you cynicism is depressing." I heard Crowley state. "Why would Lucifer force me to discuss the very means of his destruction?"

Dean sat up straight, and I could see him focus more. "What are you talking about?"

"A weapon..." I tensed slightly, wondering if he was about to mention my name or not. "One that channels divinity."

He wanted to keep me a secret, for now. Good.

"What kind of weapon are we talking about here?" Dean asked. I could see the wheels turning in his head.

"One powerful enough to help destroy a force like the Darkness, or Lucifer. Tell me you haven't been searching for such a thing."

"A Hand of God?" Dean scoffed. "Of course we have."

"Thought as much. St. Louis. The old post office on Beekman." I remembered that place. I'd been there before when I'd been homeless. A bit run-down and shabby, but nobody looked for me there.

I knew Crowley had hung up when Dean said his name and got no answer. "SAM!" He shouted, standing up. "We're going to St. Louis!"

I brought myself back to my body, and told Crowley they were in. "Excellent." He said. "I always worry that they won't bite when I hang up before they answer."

"Should we tell them?" I asked. He shook his head.

"Let's see what plays out, first. I'd rather you be insurance. Besides, you know how they feel about witches."

"They've made hard decisions before as well." I reminded Crowley, standing up to grab a jacket. "If anything, Dean and Sam might even celebrate. We're family." I threw on the dark article with ease. "They'll be happy to see me alive and ready to do my part."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." Crowley muttered, putting a hand on my shoulder.


	18. Boys On Board

"Nice digs." Dean complimented, looking about the space. He and Sam stood across from Crowley, while I stood off to the side of them all, completely invisible.

We needed the boys to believe in Crowley's plan. I was there to seal the deal if there were questions to Crowley's credibility.

"The Crypt Keeper out of town?" The elder Hunter asked jokingly.

Crowley stared at the boys, angry at the way they seemed to relaxed. "I'm lucky to be alive. Lucifer had me trussed up like a dog in my own palace!" He told them.

"'Palace?'" Dean scoffed. "Oh, you mean the abandoned nuthouse."

"He kept me in a kennel!" Crowley shouted. Dean and Sam just smiled, amused by the thought. I couldn't help but smile as well. "And he turned all his demons... my demons... against me! They scour the earth, day and night, looking to kill me. He has to be dealt with."

"So is this why you brought us here?" Dean asked. "Some lousy grudge match with Lucifer?"

"Yeah, where's this, uh, Hand of God you were talking about?" Sam added.

"I'm getting to that." Crowley stated. "And I would think you two would have the same grudge match, considering who saw the dearly departed Kylie last." That knocked the smirks off of the boys' faces. "Your only hope of subduing Amara is to match the level of power that she possesses."

"No kidding." Dean stated. "And?"

"And I have the Horn of Joshua." Crowley crowed.

"Joshua?" Sam asked. "As in the Joshua that won the battle of Jericho?"

Crowley nodded. "And I'm willing to entrust it to your capable hands." At this uncharacteristic display of trust from the demon, Sam and Dean exchanged skeptical glances. "What? I just said I'd give you the thing."

"If?" The brothers asked, simultaneously.

"Is this how you say 'thank you?'" Crowley asked. "You think these things grow on bloody trees?!"

"Cut the crap, Crowley. With you, there's always an 'if.'" Dean pointed out.

"Fine. I will give you the Horn, 'if'" Crowley added, putting emphasis on the word. "You help me exorcise Lucifer from Castiel's vessel and then return him immediately to the Cage."

"Oh, that's all? Huh." Sam stated.

"Okay. And where is this horn?" Dean asked.

"Safely hidden, naturally." Crowley answered. In all honesty, I actually had it with me right then, that way it was close and the brothers couldn't scour Crowley for it.

"Yeah." Dean said sarcastically.

"Crowley, even if we could exorcise Lucifer out of Cas, the Cage is damn near impenetrable. It took a spell from the Book of the Damned to spring Lucifer, and Rowena hid the book." Sam pointed out.

"And we would need both the book and her to even have a shot." Dean added.

"Did I say this would be easy?" Crowley asked. "No. I did not."

"Do you even know where Rowena is?"

"Rotting somewhere, I assume." Crowley answered. "Lucifer snapped her neck."

That part, I hadn't known. All I knew was that Rowena wasn't on the playing field any more, and that Billie couldn't get me to her.

But Billie could summon any dead person, and transport me to their bodies.

She had no reason to lie, so if Rowena was an option and they wanted me trained, why wouldn't she take me to the witch?

Rowena was alive.

She had to be alive, but if Lucifer snapped her neck, then who's side was she on? Her own?

I needed to tell Crowley that part, but I couldn't now. They kept talking, discussing terms and a plan.

"Hold on, okay?" Dean said. "Let's just put it in reverse. We will put Lucifer back in the Cage after we put Amara back on ice. It has to happen in that order, otherwise there is no Lucifer, there's no Cage, there's no nothing."

"He's spent years marinating in hate against us!" Crowley reminded them. "He has to go."

"Problem is, we may need him." Sam said, parroting the same things I'd considered. Dean continued, adding on to his brother's logic.

"He's been down this road with Amara before. He might be the only one powerful enough to use the Horn against her."

"He had me cleaning the floors with my tongue!" Crowley admitted. "He called me 'puppy!' He made me beg!"

"All right. Come on." Dean said, trying to placate the demon. "Is this what this is about? Huh? Your stupid ego? The fact that he dissed you in front of a bunch of stupid demons? You're smarter than this. Come on!"

"Dean's right." Sam agreed. "Priority is to put the Horn in Lucifer's hands and set him loose on Amara."

"After we exorcise Lucifer out of Cas and put him into a new vessel." Dean added quickly. Sam turned to his brother, surprised. As they took their eyes off of Crowley, he motioned quietly to me to disarm the brothers.

"What? Really?" Sam asked. I moved towards Dean first as he responded, removing the bullets from his gun and the blade from his pocket. Both were stored safely in my inner coat pocket.

"Yes, really. We're not gonna send Lucifer into battle inside Cas. What if he doesn't make it?" Dean asked. I moved away from him to Sam, and began the same work, removing the knife from his possession as well.

"Dean, it's a strong vessel." Sam reminded him. "It's held Cas for years, and we know what he's been through. I'm guessing it can hold Lucifer."

"'It?'" Dean asked, outraged. "It's not an 'it,' Sam. It's Cas!"

"And Cas _wanted_ to do this." Sam argued.

That part still stung slightly; the part where this was all Castiel's choice, that he wanted Lucifer in control, wanted a part of this mess.

Or at the very least, that he hadn't even considered the mess that would come when he made his choice.

"Yeah, well, there's times I want to get slapped during sex by a girl wearing a Zorro mask." Dean argued back. I made a face, appearing behind the Winchesters for a moment to glance at Crowley and show that I had disarmed the pair. "That don't make it a good idea."

"Dean, this is exactly how we screw ourselves." Sam stated. "We make the... the heart choice instead of the smart choice."

I hoped that I had made the smart choice.

"Oh, okay. Thank you, Dr. Phil. Cas is family." Dean reminded Sam.

"Yes, and his choice deserves to be respected." Sam said.

"Even if it kills him?" Dean asked. When Sam didn't respond, he continued. "What about how it killed Kylie? Do you really think he wanted that to happen to?"

"It's killing me!" Crowley exclaimed, regaining the brother's attention. I disappeared quickly once more, resuming my place to the side of the trio. "I would rather stick white-hot skewers in my eyes than listen to you two bitches bicker! I gave you the terms of my deal. If Lucifer's not back in the Cage, the Horn stays hidden." Crowley stated firmly.

"You know, this is a dick move, Crowley." Sam said. "Even for you. You're not being reasonable!"

"I don't have to be reasonable." Crowley argued. "I'm the king!"

Suddenly I heard a voice in my mind, screaming two words.

 _ **Hear me.**_

There was a large crash outside, causing both the boys and Crowley to run out. I followed quietly, fearing that I knew who had caused this. The sky, which had once been bright and fine, was now dark and stormy. A large bolt of lightning broke through the barrage of clouds, striking somewhere far in the distance while thunder boomed ominously.

"You know what fellas?" Dean asked. "I think that's Amara." He said.

I couldn't help but agree.

The males hurried back inside, talking. "Okay. So now we all just saw what happens when she's in a bad mood, which, apparently, she's been in since the dawn of time." Sam stated.

"I think she just rattled heaven with a flick of her pinkie finger." Dean added. "That's not a big enough dose of reality for you?" He asked Crowley.

As Crowley and the Winchesters continued to speak, I felt something. Their conversation was no longer private, not anymore.

I found a place to hide and sat back, following the presence back to where it had originated. That was when I saw Amara, for the first time, with Rowena standing beside her, of all people.

 ** _Rowena?_** I asked. Rowena took a glance to where I was, using the same Wings of Titania spell that she had.

 _ **Who are you?**_ She asked in response. I fought back the urge to smile.

I'd worked out a spell before we came, one that would hide my identity from everyone, whether they knew me or not. Apparently it was working.

 _ **Why are you with Amara?**_ I asked in response. _**She wants to destroy the world.**_

 _ **I think I know that**_ _ **now**_ _ **.**_ Rowena stated. She stopped, Amara gathering her attention.

"Well? What are the Winchesters preparing to do?" The Darkness asked.

"Mm, nothing." Rowena lied. "Paralyzed with fear. They don't know what to do."

"You're right." Amara stated, patting the witch on the cheek. "You're actually handy to have around."

"Thanks." Rowena said, her face flush with relief as Amara walked past her. "Lovely of you to say." _**Are you with Fergus now?**_ She asked.

 _ **Why? Do you plan to help?**_

 _ **Do you plan to take out Lucifer?**_

 _ **Yes.**_

 _ **Then yes.**_ She agreed. I watched as she closed her eyes, focusing, and I moved back to my own body.

 _ **A surprise is coming.**_ I warned Crowley mentally. _**Don't give me away just yet.**_

"Guys!" Sam said, his voice loud and gaining the attention of Dean and Crowley. He motioned their attention to the side of an old safe. "Look at this."

On the side of the safe were five words, undoubtedly from Rowena. **BACK FROM THE DEAD, FERGUS!** It read.

 ** _Surprise._** I thought, appearing just for a moment to catch Crowley's gaze.


	19. Failure Sucks

Dean and Sam got to the church first, while I hung back with Rowena and Crowley. "Explain yourself!" She demanded, going from looking at me to Crowley.

"Mother," Crowley said, his voice dripping with loathing. "Meet Diana."

"Oh, you're trying to replace your own mother now, are you?" She asked.

"No. Diana is a special kind of Nephilim." Crowley lied smoothly. This was a cover we'd agreed to in advance. "One of her parents was angel."

"And the other?"

"Witch."

Rowena turned to look at me. "Do you know which was which?" She asked. I shrugged.

"I don't." I answered. "I grew up in the system."

"How did you learn?" She asked, looking from me to Crowley.

"I was in a foster home." I said. "The parents… They were abusive. They locked me in a closet in the basement, and I could only eat cheap canned foods. One day… I…" I took a deep breath, drawing on a few old memories of rough nights on the streets. "Their kid… He… He…" I shook my head, biting back fake tears. "I don't remember how I did it, but I threw him through the wall out on to the street, and I set the house on fire. The parents burned to death inside, and the kid… He's paralyzed from the waist down. I ran, I was so scared. I ran and I never looked back."

"You poor dearie." She said, putting an arm around me. I could feel her trying to scour my mind, but my necklace kept her out. "You're a powerful one, aren't you?" She asked. I shrugged.

"Mr. Crowley has been teaching me how to use it." I said. Rowena just laughed.

"Mr. Crowley, Uncle Crowley…" She looked back at the demon, and I fought back a snicker at "Uncle Crowley." "Do I want to know why you keep acquiring you women to consider you a paternal or responsible figure?"

"The point, mother," Crowley stated. "Is that she has enough power and control. She was intended to replace you, if needed, but since you're here…" Crowley thought for a moment. "Diana, watch Rowena." He ordered, turning to me. "I want you to stay invisible while Rowena cages Lucifer."

"Why are you throwing me to the flames?" Rowena asked. "Lucifer is the one that knows my face, not hers!"

"I'm not strong enough to face Lucifer!" I cried, actual fear seeping in to my voice. "He… He's the Devil. The LITERAL Devil. What do I do if he tries to kill me? I won't be able to stop him!"

"Poor dearie," Rowena tutted, grabbing my shoulders to examine my face. "It's alright. After this, I'll train you to be one of the most powerful witches there, and we'll make sure you're ready to face Amara. That sound alright?"

In the back of my mind, I heard Crowley's voice reminding me of his mother's greatest desire – to be the most powerful, and bow to no one.

As long as I played to her ego, I would be fine.

"Alright." I agreed, nodding.

"Excellent. I'm assuming the boys don't know who you are?" She asked. I nodded.

"They don't know she exists." Crowley confirmed. "And by extension, neither does Castiel or Lucifer. She is the perfect secret weapon."

"Well, I'll make you in to one anyways by the time we're done." She assured me. I nodded, keeping up the façade of a scared girl still learning a lot of how to be a witch.

I kept it up almost the entire time, staying invisible and hiding behind Rowena as they summoned Lucifer.

I kept it up when Crowley smoked in to Lucifer, putting three minds in one more than likely straining vessel.

I kept it up when Sam exorcised Crowley out, and the wardings failed.

I kept it up when Lucifer failed.

I kept it up when Rowena placed a hand on my shoulder, taking me and the Book of the Damned out of the back door of the church and with her. She asked if I could disappear like angels did, to get us both out of here.

I underplayed my talents and said no. She had a plan, though, and got us both back to her hideout in Louisiana fast. "Well, that was a right train wreck, wasn't it dearie?" She'd asked me, composing herself as she smoothed out her dress. "Tea?" She had offered.

The only time I dropped it was when Castiel was in control, for the briefest second. I wanted cry, to shout for him to cast Lucifer, out, but I couldn't.

I had a role to play, and it was to watch and observe; to not let anyone else know I was present and risk blowing my cover.

I met up with Crowley later, telling Rowena that I had to gather my things. She got me a spell to get to Utah, and gave me the instructions to get myself back. I searched myself for hex bags or bewitched coins before we spoke, as did he on himself.

I torched the one Rowena had slipped in to my jacket pocket with ease, as did the demon a second later with his own. Then he told me his new plan. He was going to try and re-take Hell, see how bad the damage was. "Your job now is to learn from my mother." He instructed.

"What about an actual plan?" I asked. "What about freeing Cas and Lucifer being caged and fighting Amara?"

"That plan died when we all failed." Crowley answered. "Sam and Dean failed to keep Cas in control. I failed to help the poor bastard. Lucifer failed to stop Amara. The only one there who succeeded was Amara, who scampered off with Lucifer and your boy-toy to who-knows-where for some more than likely not-so-fun family time. I have no plan, now." Crowley stated. "Nothing except to try and reclaim Hell one more time."

"Why are you giving up?" I asked, furious. "You put forward time and effort in to making me a weapon, and now you're just throwing in the towel?!"

"Our plan FAILED." Crowley stated. "And that was our best shot at getting something. If you have a better idea, feel free to share it."

"What about another Hand of God?" I offered. Crowley shook his head.

"We just saw an archangel try it. Didn't work out, did it?" He asked.

"What if there's some sort of spell in the Book of the Damned to put her back in?"

"Best of luck getting that from mother. She's just going to want to use you to get herself out of here."

"But we can't just give up!"

"Then what other plan have you got?!" He shouted, furious himself now. We stood, toe to toe, pissed off as all could be at each other. I took a deep breath, scouring through everything I knew.

"I'm going to find God." I answered after a moment. "And more Hands. And spells. And whatever the hell else I might need to try and fight."

"Best of luck to you, then." Crowley said, tipping his head towards me in farewell. I stalked off, preparing myself to go back to where Rowena was hiding out. "He was in your apartment." Crowley called after me.

I stopped, turning to face him. "Castiel," Crowley explained. "When I was in his head, he was stashed away in a relaxed and unfettered part of his mind. He was in your apartment, I presume," he shrugged. "Since I've seen the Bunker already. He was sitting on what I'm certain was your couch, watching TV."

"Did you tell him?" I asked.

I wasn't certain what I wanted the answer to be. If it was a yes, then Cas still hadn't fought, and now Lucifer knew where I was. If it was a no, then Cas still believed I was dead, and obviously didn't give enough of a damn to fight back.

"No." Crowley answered. "Lucifer came in before I had the chance. Why do you still wear the ring?" He asked in turn. "The world is going to end, and your last chance of getting Castiel back just disappeared in a puff of black smoke that wasn't from me."

I twisted the object in question, thinking on it for a moment. I had disguised it as well, making it a simple band to the casual onlooker. Nothing of import. Nothing worth noticing.

"I have to believe in something." I answered. "I have to believe."

"I believe that Rowena gave you some not half-bad advice a while back." Crowley stated. "Believe in yourself, not in anyone else. They'll all fail you and betray you in the end. Just look at what happened to my kingdom." With that, Crowley disappeared.

I went back to the cabin, first, to gather my few belongings. Rowena was out in Louisiana, of all places. I told her I was going to get my things and then go back to meet with her. She seemed happy to have someone to train before the end of the world.

Probably just wanted her ego stoked one last time.

Then again, with Crowley making one last bid for Hell, couldn't the same be said for him?

"And here I am, preparing to go get more training, of all things." I muttered. "Going to find God, like Cas did. Going to go hide, like everyone has been doing. Going to do anything, because I can't do nothing."

I took a glance at the chess board. I doubted Rowena would be one for the game, but I had grown fond of it. Playing helped ease my mind.

I knew more than heard when Billie was behind me, watching. "We failed." I told her quietly.

"I know."

"How come you didn't tell me Rowena was alive?"

"You didn't ask."

That was kind of her way. I didn't hold it against her. I understood. You had to seek out information to get the answers you wanted.

"What're you gonna do now?" She asked.

"The only thing I can think to do is try and find God." I answered, then thought for a moment. "Is he still alive?"

"Oh yeah."

"Do you know where he is?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Great." I muttered, before resuming packing away things in a bag. "Do you think it's a good idea?" I asked next.

"It's the only idea, isn't it?" Billie asked in response. I didn't answer. I wasn't certain how to answer.

"Billie, the world is going to end, isn't it?" I asked. She shrugged.

"I'm not certain." She said honestly. "It definitely could. Then again, this isn't the first time it's almost bit the dust."

"I think the world wants to jump off a cliff, some days." I said. "I think that there's some other force, something that runs fate, that's absolutely tired and done with the world and just wants to start over. I mean, God and Amara have to have a mom or a dad or something, right?" I asked. "Maybe there's an even higher power that's just done and keeps trying to… to manipulate everything so that the world just ends, all done, ashes and dust and nothingness."

"Why?" Billie asked.

"To start over." I offered, shrugging. "To simply be done and not have to worry about it all anymore? To punish everyone, maybe? I don't know."

"Why do you believe that?" Billie asked next.

"Because I don't know what else I'm supposed to believe at this point." I told her. "I can't believe in Lucifer or Dean or Sam or Crowley or a Hand of friggin God or…" I took a deep breath, unable to say the last two names; unable to say Castiel's name.

Or my own.

"I don't know anymore, Billie." I said softly. "I just don't know, which sucks, because at this point in the game I don't have the time to not know. All the time I have left to figure this out hinges on an ancient power's grudge against her brother and his son Lucy."

"What about the Winchesters?" She asked. I shrugged again. "Or Crowley?"

"Crowley has officially given up." I said. "He's making his last bid for Hell, and going out with a crown on his head."

"What about the Scribe?"

"Kevin is dead." I reminded her. She shook her head.

"Not the prophet." Billie corrected me. "The Scribe. Metatron."

"That ass?" I asked. "I wouldn't even know where to find him."

"You've got his grace." She said. I shook my head.

"That's in the back of Castiel's car, locked up tight."

"Castiel and Lucifer are currently occupied." She said. "That grace is up for grabs."

I stopped packing, turning to face her. "You really think Metatron can get me to God?"

"If you're serious about it, then yes." She replied. "I think Metatron can be helpful."

"Metatron?" I asked again, just to be sure. "I mean, the guy is human now, homeless, and a complete ass."

"He also may be the best option that you have." She pointed out. I sighed.

"Do you think I need the training from Rowena?"

"She may have a spell in the Book of the Damned." She replied. "One that could find God, or maybe get rid of Amara."

"That's a lot to bank on a witch that may or may not let me get a hold of the book." I argued. "And a lot to bank on a singular book, too."

"It had a spell to remove the Mark of Cain from Dean." Billie said simply. "It might not be as much to bank as you'd believe."

With that, she disappeared.

"Great." I muttered, sitting on the bed for a moment. My plan, to find God, hinged on being able to steal or borrow the Book of the Damned from Rowena and translate a copy, find Metatron with his own grace that was still locked in Castiel's pimp car, hope for a spell somewhere in between, and…

Find God.

I took one last glance at the chess board, thinking on it.

I moved the white night on the left forwards two spaces, and left one.


	20. Biding Time

Finding time to "borrow" the Book of the Damned was difficult.

In turn, Rowena found her inability (and my lack of desire) for her to read my mind quite unhelpful.

She kept the Book closely guarded and warded heavily under spells, as I did with my mind. It was funny, when she was teaching me spells on how to control minds and movements, she tried to use that to forcefully get me to remove the necklace.

"I was very particular about how I did this one." I told her after it had failed. "I wanted to make sure that that couldn't happen, so that Mr. Crowley couldn't do that to me. This necklace only comes off if I take it off. I have to be of sound mind and body. No angels or demons or ghosts can be possessing me at the time, nor can any creature be trying to control me with magic. Any outward forces that aren't my own…" I shrugged. "It senses it, and won't come off."

Case in point were the small burn marks on my hand from it that were quickly healing.

"How did you learn to do that?" Rowena asked, curious.

"I approached it like a mathematical equation, kind of." I answered honestly. "Like a mix of algebra, advanced physics, and chemical formula balancing."

"How did you learn to do that?" Rowena repeated.

"I was in advanced placement courses when I was in school." I kept my answers honest. "If… If nothing bad had happened…" I let the pauses hang for a minute before continuing. "I could've gone to college. Do you think I still can?"

"Ask a question that puts you in a lower position, but do it purposefully." Crowley had instructed. This wasn't on magic, though. This was on how to manipulate the situation. "It will make them feel as though they have power over you, and nothing is more flimsy and thin than the feeling of false power."

"Don't be afraid to play the idiot if it gets you the right information." Sam had said on one hunt. "You'd be surprised how often people like to correct you."

"Play the blonde at pool, and you'll have their cash next round before they can even order you a third drink." Dean's advice on night, on how I could up my pool hustling game.

It was strange, how the advice of three different people, for three different reasons, could all work and be mixed in.

And it worked. I did some things that I had already gone over with Crowley and learned, as well as learned a plethora of new information (playing the fool wasn't that hard when your only training has been from a Reaper and a demon), and in the mix Rowena…

She didn't quite learn to trust me, but she came to believe that I was harmless and non-threatening, besides the fact that she still couldn't get in to my head.

That was what kept offsetting her. She would start to trust me, start to believe me, but then she'd try to get in to my head again, and I could see part of it diminish.

She understood, but she didn't like it.

I couldn't care less. She kept me around, and kept training me, so I was fine with that.

And, eventually, I got a hold of the Book.

She thought she could lock it up tight. Granted, the spells she put in place around it were difficult as all hell to figure out and work around, much less make sure I could sat them exactly as they were later, but I did it.

I worked fast, taking pictures of each and every page to make sure I could use time later to decode properly. Once I was done, I locked it back up as it had been, and went back outside to practice…

That was it. Memory spells. I had to repeatedly cut and heal an animal, then wipe it's memory so it would trust me again.

She had me do it to a rat.

I hated her methods.

Granted, I had hated Crowley's as well.

But beggars can't be choosers.

Still, Crowley never made me hurt a damn rat. And he was cute, too. I named him Spartacus.

No real reasoning behind it. I just wanted to name the rat, and give him a cool name.

But I was good. Spartacus didn't remember what I did, and you honestly couldn't tell by looking at him.

When Rowena came back, I had the memory spell perfected. I let Spartacus go afterwards, and erased his memory of me. I couldn't honestly bear for him to remember me.

"Your progress is coming along quite nicely." She commented, proud of my work. "Any questions on the matter?"

"Not really." I said with a shrug.

"Alright, then." She thought for a moment. "Tell me, do you know how long it takes most witches to master memory spells, or healing spells, or really most any spells save for the absolute basics?"

"No idea."

"For memory spells, at least a year, minimum." She said, off-handedly. "And that's with truly exceptional witches."

"Like you?" I asked. She smiled, but it was tight-lipped.

"As for a normal witch," Rowena continued. "It takes at least two to three years, if not much longer, for them to get a rudimental grasp on how to make them work, and yet you did it within the few hours I left you alone. Now, tell me," she turned on me then. "Nec motus."

I couldn't move. I was paralyzed.

"Rowena?" I asked, keeping myself very calm. "What are you doing?"

"I'm wondering how you managed to do those in an afternoon."

"I don't know." I answered, allowing fear to creep in to my voice. "I just… I looked at it like a problem, and I solved it."

"Like that algebra and math and physics and… What was that last one you mentioned?"

"Chemistry?" I asked. "Balancing formulas and equations?"

"Yes, that's it. Is that what you did?"

"No." I said. "I just… Kind of practiced and put my head to it until I had it down."

"There's more to it, I know." She told me. "I know there's more."

"I don't know." I said again. "Maybe it's the angel/witch duo in me?"

"I believe it's more than that."

"Well, your guess is as good as mine," I answered, doing my best to appear fearful and terrified. "So, if you wouldn't mind letting me go I'd feel a bit better… Please?"

A little bit of begging never hurt anyone.

"I will… After you answer one question." She answered.

"What?!" I asked, keeping my voice just under a scream. She paused, and I could feel it. She knew. I hadn't done a good enough job. I'd been made.

"Do you know how to cook?" She asked, releasing me from being paralyzed. "Because personally, I believe a shepherd's pie sounds quite lovely for dinner tonight." She smiled, as though everything was fine and dandy again, before she walked away.

I stood there for a little bit, as though I needed to take a bit and breath and get my senses back together.

I had my laptop protected just as well as she had had the Book done, if not a little better, and had the files saved to one of Danny's external encrypted drop points.

If all else failed, I was prepared.

I stayed on with Rowena for another week or two, not much longer. I was running through everything she was teaching me in strides, absorbing the information at rates where I couldn't pretend to hide my talent anymore.

But by then, I had everything I needed. I had the information I needed, a copy of the Book, and hopefully, time.

The only thing left was Metatron's grace.

Amara had Lucifer, and as far as I knew the car was still where I'd left it…

At the Bunker.

Where Sam and Dean were.

It wasn't a decision at all, but at the same time it was one that I had to think on for a second. I hadn't seen Sam and Dean since the church, and they hadn't seen me since…

Well, before Lucifer.

What if I ran in to them again?

What if they recognized me?

What if they didn't? What if they thought I was an intruder? I'd worked hard to make sure nobody would recognize me, including the Winchesters.

What if they…

I remembered talking with Crowley, before we'd gone and met the brothers. _"Besides, you know how they feel about witches."_

 _"They've made hard decisions before as well. If anything, Dean and Sam might even celebrate. We're family. They'll be happy to see me alive and ready to do my part."_

 _"Whatever helps you sleep at night." Crowley had muttered._

What if Crowley was right, and they either wouldn't recognize me and try to kill me, or would recognize me and… and still do the same thing.

What if I ran in to the brothers, and they hated me for what I've become?

I still had to go, still had to do this, but I had to consider those possibilities. I had to consider that…

That the Winchesters might be the ones that kill me if I step foot near them.

"Well this puts a damper on my Tuesday." I muttered, leaning back in my chair. Wings of Titania would tell me where they were. If they were at the Bunker, I'd wait if I could. If not…

Then I'd have to act fast.

I felt myself moving, flying out to…

A police station. Sam and Dean were dressed for an investigation, sitting and waiting at a desk. Sam was typing away at his laptop, researching something or other.

"Green eyes, buzzing," Dean commented to his brother. "Weed alone doesn't conjure up that kind of scenario. Isn't that right, Sam?"

Sam looked like a deer in the headlights. "Dude, I was eighteen." He said in defense.

"Sinner." Dean smirked

"It was college!" Sam continued. "It was probably oregano anyways."

Dean just smiled. "Rebel."

I put myself back in my body, smiling myself for a moment. They seemed pretty alright. Happy, even, or at least back to that old-married-couple thing they did so often.

I wished that I could've been there, with them, instead of here in Louisiana with Rowena.

I disappeared to the Bunker shortly afterwards, knowing that they'd be away on that case for at least a few days.


	21. Back At The Bunker (For A Little While)

**Hey! WriKai here!**

 **OK, SO, I know I'm going past the usual 20-ish chapters before the end, but I'm honestly having a lot of fun with this one and will probably be extending it out past the norm. Just a heads-up for anyone asking. Thank you all again so much for the continued readership, messages, comments, and overall absolutely awesome levels of support from everyone!**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

Getting the grace from Castiel's car wasn't difficult. I hadn't done a half-bad job on those symbols I put around the lockbox, not at all, and was grateful that I still remembered the code to open it. W1TCH3CH. My version of Witch-Bitch.

Easy.

I stood outside the Bunker for a while, though. A long while.

In all honesty, probably longer than I had safely.

But I couldn't help it. I missed the place. I missed the Bunker, I missed the Winchesters, I missed hunting and research and going home to the apartment and…

By God, the apartment. I hadn't been in it since… Well…

Just since.

It was only a two-hour drive away, but I didn't have to drive, did I? I could just appear there, if I wanted to. Appear in the living room if I wanted, look around, see what had happened. Crowley had mentioned that Lucifer had moved research on Amara from the Bunker to there, as well as the rest of my things. If he had, they would be there.

Unless it wasn't, and Lucifer had trashed the place in spite, or perhaps he'd destroyed everything, just to prove a point to Cas.

I thought about it, thought about going to the apartment, but decided against it.

I wasn't that person anymore.

Kylie was dead, after all. I honestly doubted Sam and Dean could recognize me now, much less Cas or even Lucifer. Rowena certainly didn't.

Then again, I'd only met Rowena once, and she'd left me for dead.

I walked in to the Bunker, because I still had the key, after all. I figured that there may be a spell or something in there I could use to help me find the damn angel.

If I was being honest, though, I knew that wasn't the only reason. I missed the place.

I missed the first home I'd had in a while. Where was my home now? That cabin Crowley hid me in?

In all honesty, probably, yeah. That was the only place I kind of had left at this point. I couldn't go back to the apartment. I couldn't stay in the Bunker, if anything I was sneaking in and disappearing again like a miscreant teenager, or a damned thief.

I didn't have any other home, anymore. The house I'd grown up in, no, that didn't exist as my own home anymore. Not even close.

So… Yeah…

The cabin.

The cabin from a demon, who killed my family.

The cabin from a demon that was previously inhabited by said demon and the goddamn sister of friggin God.

That was home, for me, at the moment. Of all places, that was what I had for a home.

I sat down at the B.A.M.T., casting myself out one more time to check on the Winchesters. Still working on that case, but apparently it was somewhere in… Colorado?

That wasn't as far as I thought they were. I needed to move faster.

I booted up my laptop, and got to work. First thing was running my pictures of the Book through Charlie's decoder (she'd emailed it to me before she'd died), something I could have running in the background as I went to the Bunker Book Spreadsheet. Every book in this place was in there, categorized by five maximum search queries. I entered in the words "summoning" and "tracking" to see what books came up. When too many books came up as an answer, I narrowed it down by adding in one more word. "Angel."

That got me a list of twenty-odd books total, a much more manageable list.

I could definitely manage twenty-odd books.

The question was, would I have time to?

I decided to head back to the cabin. I'd have more time, more ingredients, and more security there. I couldn't keep track of where the Winchesters were 24/7, and the longer I stayed in the Bunker the more I risked being seen and discovered.

There were over a million books in this place.

They wouldn't miss a few.

I checked the status on my laptop of how the decoding was going. There was a lot of pages, so it would be slow, however it was already about 12% done. I wouldn't be able to leave until it was done, the magic interfered with it whenever I tried to run background programs, so I was stuck here or with the car until it was done.

I could wait to leave until my computer was done, and take the time to do some research until then.

I wrote down the list of books, as well as where they were all located, before changing my search parameters" "Darkness," "God," and "Creation."

Once I weeded out the fifty different copies of the Bible I knew wouldn't be helpful, I had three more books that looked like they might be helpful. I wrote them down, and thought on one more search.

"God," "Summon," "Christianity," and "Tracking."

I got one book. I double checked the list I already had to see if it was on there anywhere already.

Nope.

I had about thirty books to pore through and research, and about… However much time it took for my laptop to go through the remaining 84% of progress to do it.

So that's what I did. I got the books from their shelves, ducked in to Kevin's old room to grab one of his many spare notebooks and pens (I couldn't bear going in to my own room just yet, but I'd made my peace with Kevin's old space), and dove in to researching.

You know that thing on TV, where a witch or warlock has like, five different books floating around them as they read and research a particular topic of interest?

Yeah, that's a fun thing.

It's an insanely fun thing. And with the different texts side-by-side, I could actually draw good comparisons and notes as I jotted down different ideas for a few possibly tracking and summoning spells of my own.

I wasn't certain how long I'd been at it, only that when my computer dinged that it was done I almost didn't hear it.

When I put the books back down, though, I felt… Different.

I had just absolutely enjoyed research, back in the Bunker, but I'd been making things float and spin and done things like a witch.

I wasn't supposed to enjoy being a witch. This was just a necessity. Just something that I was doing to be useful in the fight.

But… But I'd been enjoying it. I was enjoying the magic and the ease that came with it. I was enjoying the ability to hold a flame in my hand, or levitate five books at once, or disappear and reappear at my own will.

I may not have enjoyed all the methods to learn these skills, but by God I loved using them.

I actually enjoyed being a witch, when for so long… I hadn't. I'd just viewed it as a necessity to help others, and afterwards something to suppress and hide away.

I checked out the translations that my computer had given me. A little odd here and there, like throwing chunks of text through an online translator, but for the most part pretty easy to read and understand.

"Alright. I have options." I said, smiling a little bit.

I had to make a few trips from the Bunker to the cabin, I could only take with me whatever I was touching, but I got it all back with me. I didn't need any ingredients from the Bunker, I had everything I would need already save for Metatron's grace, but I had that now too.

I decided to take some time finishing with the books. If I was going to ask Metatron for help, I wanted to make sure I was set and prepared in case he tried to screw me over like he has consistently with the brothers. Armed and dangerous with knowledge and magic.

Dear God, I was taking a page out of his own book.

"Hell, I think I'm taking pages out of everybody's books at this point." I decided, cracking back open a few books. It was time to get to work.


	22. The First Time I Met God

I spent the next few days (I think it was a few days. I really hope it was only a few days) researching and preparing. I had maybe fifteen or twenty spells directly from the books; half of them specifically for finding God, three for Amara, and the rest for finding Metatron. I wasn't certain whether I would need angel tracking spells or human tracking spells for him, but I had his grace, so I hoped that would be all I needed for something with DNA or his essence or whatever I would need.

Then I had about ten "experimental spells," as I had dubbed them – spells I'd kind of Frankenstein-styled and tried to figure out from other spells that I knew would work, so that they were more specific to what I wanted or more powerful for what was needed.

For example, trying to find God or Amara.

Finally, though, it came time to actually try some of these out, and find Metatron.

I went with the ones from the books, first, knowing that they were proven to be successful and had the highest chance of working.

And absolutely every single one of them fizzled out in my face, except for the last one.

The last one literally blew up. As in, blasted-me-in-to-the-wall, soot-on-my-face, curtains-bit-the-dust-again blew up. I sucked back in the flames that had erupted everywhere quickly, and did my best to brush the soot and ash off of my clothes.

"Damn." I muttered. That was new. I knew that I'd done everything right, but at the same time…

What the hell?

What in the actual hell had happened?

I checked the vial of angel grace, to make sure I hadn't overdone on it.

Nope, still there, only missing maybe a third of the original amount from the different spells I'd tried.

Had Metatron somehow warded himself against what I was doing? I knew Sam and Dean were warded against everything, but I could still find them no problems. Cas had Lucifer in him, and that's why I couldn't find him when I tried it.

But Metatron was normal Metatron, as far as I could tell. He was human.

So how in the hell had these not worked?

"Time to try a make-em-up." I decided. Metatron may ward himself against traditional spells, but there's no way in hell he could ward against my own brainchildren spells.

Hmmm… Note-to-self, see if I can create make-em-up proofing.

I got the ingredients together, reading over my notes one more time. "Draw the symbols," I examined the circle I'd sketched out. Large enochian symbol in the middle, six smaller different symbols around it from different tracking and summoning spells, explaining the intent – to find Metatron and summon myself to the spot. "Burn the stuff," I muttered, pulling up a single flame on my index finger. "Add the grace," I took a glance at the little vial. "Say the hopefully magic words," I re-read the Latin, making sure everything was phrased properly. "And… Pray it doesn't kill you." I decided.

Hey, maybe if I pray hard enough I can skip the Metatron step.

I giggled for a moment at the thought before getting serious again. I felt confident about this spell. It felt correct, like it would work if I wanted it to, or like how I'd felt when I'd been painting those symbols with Billie or even when I'd summoned her.

I was certain that this would work.

I drew out the symbols first, and started speaking. "Cecidit angelus, quaero," next came the bowl for mixing and burning. "Misit eos iniquitate," I stated at the ingredients for a second, and watched as a small flame erupted from them. "Essentia et remota, ut poena." I held up the vial of grace, watching the flames eat up the offering. "Quaeram te, Metatron, et ceciderunt scriba." I started pouring some of the grace in, repeating the words again. "Quaeram te, Metatron, et ceciderunt scriba." I closed the vial, leaving about half of it left, and turned to the flames once more.

I pictured the man in my head, as I'd seen him previously, and raised my hands. The flames began to change color, and I could feel the power in my spell building around me. "Quaeram te, Metatron!" I shouted. "Et ceciderunt scriba!"

The flames shot high, scorching the ceiling above me in a brilliant blaze of white.

That was when I felt like I was burning, but not a burning I could control or dismiss. It was like everything around me was burning me alive, like something was determined to burn me out.

I was trespassing. I was doing something I shouldn't, and I was going to be burned at the stake for my actions.

"Oh, for Pete's sake." I heard a voice mutter, the sound both close and far at the same time.

Then it stopped, just as it started, and I was on my knees on the floor, breathing heavily.

Except this wasn't the floor of the cabin, this was the floor of a….

What was that smell, beer?

Was I in a bar?

I looked around, and saw Metatron first (along with the clarification that yes, I was most definitely in a bar). He was standing, staring at me like I had just been beamed up by aliens.

In all honesty, I kind of wondered if this was what that would feel like.

There was a second person, though, sitting a booth. He had dark hair, and turned around to see me. He had on glasses, a white shirt, and a dark green jacket. "Hello!" He said, as though nothing was wrong.

"Hi." I stammered out, feeling a little wobbly. "Quick question, important question, where am I?" I focused this one at Metatron.

"Ask him!" Metatron exclaimed, looking over at the other man to fill in the blanks. He stood up, smiling.

"Hi." He said again, offering me a hand. I took it cautiously, and the guy helped me stand. "I'm Chuck. Sorry about the wobbliness by the way. You were trying to jailbreak in, and kinda almost killed yourself in the process." He motioned to my clothes, and I saw that there were random burn marks and scorches and holes in a couple spots. "Excellent spellwork, though. If he hadn't been here, specifically, you would've been successful much sooner."

"Were you the one blocking me?" I asked. He shrugged.

"Not intentionally, but… I built this room to be a safe haven from everything and anything, so kind of, yeah." He let go of my hand, then, and took his seat once more. "And I must say, it's a pleasure to meet you, Kylie." He paused, thinking. "Or would you prefer Diana? Or Kai?"

"I didn't tell you my name." I said after thinking for a moment. I was certain Metatron hadn't said it, either. "I didn't tell you any of my names. And… How in the hell did I get to B.G.'s Canteen?"

"Oh, so you recognize it?" Metatron asked, seeming almost… I wasn't certain. Too normal, but with a slightly more high-strung tone to it.

"Yeah, I knew a guy that's performed here." I explained. I was about to continue, but the other man, Chuck, cut me off.

"When you were still homeless, you met a man named Carl Rodgers. He had gone to B.G.'s while in college abroad, and had performed there after winning a bet with the owner." Chuck said. "He played two songs, a cover of Dream On by Aerosmith and one of his original ideas, I believe it was entitled 'Soul Drain,'" Chuck stated. "And his friends took pictures of the place. Carl showed them to you, believing he could show off to you and take you home afterwards, which you declined, and you two parted ways."

"How… How do you know all that?" I asked.

"Oh, crap, my bad!" Chuck said, handing me a pair of glasses. "Here. This will be easiest."

I put them on, feeling just a slight uncertain. Metatron did the same after Chuck handed him a pair. "Do you know about this?" I asked the ex-angel. He nodded.

Then…

How in God's – no, strike that, Chuck's – name do I describe that light? If I hadn't had the sunglasses on, I was certain my eyes would've been burnt out of my skull or melted in their sockets.

"Holy shit." I said after the light died, taking off the sunglasses. "You… You… Oh my G… I… I… I'm sorry for saying 'holy shit.'" I finally stammered out. Metatron snickered, and we both handed freaking GOD the sunglasses back.

"Stick with Chuck." Metatron advised. I nodded, uncertain of what else to do.

"Again, very nice to meet you Kylie." Chuck said. "You really have exceeded most expectations."

"So…" I turned from Chuck to Metatron, looking between the two as though not saying a word would somehow give me all the answers.

"Let me explain," Chuck offered, motioning to the booth. I took a seat across from him as Metatron moved to grab a barstool. "Would you like a drink?" Chuck offered. "I know that you prefer beer, but in general not to drink, leaving hot tea as something you would probably pick over the alcohol."

"Tea is good." I agreed, still wrapping my head around who was sitting across from me. He held out his hand, and it now held a mug with steaming tea. "Thanks." I said awkwardly, taking it from him.

It was the cheap and bitter tea you get at a second-rate hotel that you're surprised even actually serves hot tea instead of the standard cheap and bitter barely-passable excuse for coffee.

And it was my absolute favorite kind of tea.

So I sat in the bar booth, across from God – sorry, Chuck – as Metatron read through a stack of papers in his hands. Chuck explained why Metatron was there, why I was there, what was going on with Amara, kind of… Well… Everything.

"So, you want to write a biography, with him as your editor," I jerked a thumb at Metatron for emphasis. Chuck nodded as I continued. "Because you kind of just do." He nodded again. "And I'm here because you didn't want to kill me off on accident?"

"That's the gist of it." Metatron agreed, not bothering to look up at me. Something about what he was reading was apparently very important.

Then again, if it was Chuck's biography, it probably would be important.

"I have some questions, if that's alright."

"I'd love to hear them." Chuck said kindly. I thought for a moment, taking one more glance at Metatron before going with the first question.

"Does this mean he's an angel again?" Both males chuckled.

"No. No. That's… That's never happening." Chuck said.

"Probably for the best." I commented. Metatron nodded.

"That's what I said." He agreed. I thought for a second, then asked my second question.

"Other than the not killing me part, which I am very grateful by the way," I said quickly, finishing off what was now my third mug of tea. "Why am I here in this room?"

"What do you mean?" Chuck asked.

"I have virtually no use at this moment." I stated. "You're, well, you," I motioned to him. "And you're writing, so there's a reason for you to be here. And Metatron, he's your writing buddy again, so there's his reason for being in this room. But me," I shrugged. "I'm not your writing buddy, and I'm kinda not you. You made sure I didn't die, thank you so much again, seriously," I reiterated. "But… Why explain this all to me? And why write an autobiography, too?"

"You are supposed to be in here, because I deem it so." Chuck answered. "I didn't want you to die, because you've worked so hard to get where you are and because I have questions of my own for you." When I looked confused, he clarified. "About your relationship with Castiel."

Metatron looked away, like the sibling who wasn't being berated but at the same time had the unfortunate luck of being in the same room as the one who was in trouble.

"But those can wait." Chuck said. "Do you have more questions?" He smiled.

"I think just one more big one." I said. "Why?"

"Didn't I just answer your why?"

"I think she means the big 'why,'" Metatron cut in, setting the pages down. "Which, quite frankly, I've been wondering too. I mean, you could probably make a whole book out of this, but… Why did you create life?"

"I was lonely." Chuck answered honestly.

"Your sister wasn't enough company?" Metatron asked. I winced, slightly. That felt like a low blow, but I could tell Metatron didn't care.

"I am being. She's nothingness. It's not exactly the makings of a fun two-hander, you know?" Chuck asked. I nodded. I understood that.

"Yeah," Metatron conceded. "But you didn't stop at one archangel or a handful of angels. You created worlds."

"I was stupid. Naive." Chuck shook his head. "I thought if I could show my sister that there was something more than just us, something better than us, then maybe she'd change. Maybe she'd stop... being... her." He motioned with his hands. "But... every time I'd build a new world... she'd destroy it."

I flashed back to being with my brothers, when little Art was just born and Josiah was begging for attention. I'd been building… Hell, something or other. A house of cards.

Josiah had knocked it down, solely because he could.

Except with Chuck, it wasn't like that. Josiah had just done it to be the center of attention. Amara did it because she saw no point in the things Chuck had created.

It was more like watching a bully stomp on a science fair project.

"So you and your archangels... you all just locked her away?" I asked. Metatron nodded. "And you got down to…"

"Unfettered Creation." Metatron finished, sounding awestruck by the idea. Chuck leaned forwards a little.

"Tried to, anyway. But..." Suddenly the scene changed, and we were all standing at the edge of a lake. It was morning, there was still fog over the water, and out in the distance I could see mountains.

I had no idea where we were, but I wished I did.

"This is the closest I got to something as good as or better than me or my sister." Chuck finished, watching me and Metatron's reactions. I stood in awe, fully letting the implications of what he was saying sink in, while Metatron looked around confused.

"The National Park System?" He asked.

"Nature." Chuck corrected. "I mean, look at what nature created on its own. What's more, nature's smart enough to know that sometimes, there's no fixing things. Sometimes, you just have to wipe the slate clean."

"Pompeii, forest fires, the Black Plague, tsunamis, and yet they always lead to new growth and new life." I muttered, glancing at Chuck to see if I had gotten it right. He nodded.

"Wipe the slate clean. Sure. Natural selection. Good times." Metatron agreed. "Of course, in your case, that means flood the Earth, but build and stock a boat. Start over fresh on the B-side. But if Amara wipes the slate…" Metatron paused for just a second, taking a breath. "The slate's destroyed. Everything's destroyed. All your great work... lost forever."

"We should take a stroll, then." Chuck suggested. "Enjoy it all one last time... before it's all gone."

"What do you mean, all gone?" I asked. But Chuck was already walking through his creation, through the closest thing he had created that could scratch the surface of perfection, through the nature around us. I stole a glance at Metatron, who looked absolutely terrified now, before we both chased after Chuck. "What do you mean, all gone?" I repeated. "Are you just going to let Amara bleach over all of us? What about the nature around us, and the people that you created and that live here?"

"Nature? Divine." Chuck stated. "Human nature?" He bent down and picked up a beer can someone had discarded off the path. "Toxic." The can disappeared in a second.

"They do like blowing stuff up." Metatron agreed.

"Yeah. And the worst part – they do it in my name." Chuck added, sounding so insulted. "And then they come crying to me, asking me to forgive, to fix things. Never taking any responsibility."

"What about your responsibility?" Metatron countered.

"I took responsibility... By leaving. At a certain point, training wheels got to come off. No one likes a helicopter parent."

"What about Amara?" I asked. "She's your sister, your family. Doesn't that make you a little responsible for that, at least, instead of the rest of the world?"

"I took responsibility for her, too." Chuck replied. "Locked her away – barely, I might add. And who let her out?"

"Sam and Dean Winchester." Metatron honestly sounded like a 5 year old tattling.

"But they're trying to fix that." I interjected quickly.

"I know, and I love those guys," Chuck told me. "But the world would still be spinning with Demon Dean in it. Sam couldn't have that, though, could he? And so how is Amara being out on me?"

"It's not." Metatron agreed, at the same time I said that she was Chuck's sister. Metatron glared at me, motioning for me to stop talking before he continued on. "But I… you helped the Winchesters before!"

"Helped them?" Chuck scoffed. "I've saved them! I've rebuilt Castiel more times than I can remember!" I made a mental note to thank him for that part, but besides that, I kind of felt angry. I had siblings. If they fucked up, I knew when to step aside and leave them in trouble on their own, but when it affected other people you can bet your ass I stepped in to try and mitigate the situation. Hell, Josiah and Art thought it would be funny once to hide all of dad's work papers, and you could bet I stepped in to help then.

"So, you're just gonna let Amara win?" I challenged him. Chuck turned to me, and did the most surprising thing in the world.

He shrugged his shoulders for a moment, as though it were no more an important matter than that of picking what to eat for breakfast. "Eh... It's her time to shine."

"Then, why the hell are we working on your stupid memoir?!" Metatron burst. Chuck glared at Metatron, offense written all over his face.

"You think it's stupid?" Chuck asked. Before Metatron could respond, he turned to me. "Do you?"

"No!" I said quickly, really fighting the urge to repent for any and all sins, now, before I got a royal smiting because the guy next to me called Bible 2.0 stupid. "However, I believe it's kind of pointless to write a book nobody is gonna be around to read." Metatron nodded angrily with me.

"You told me to write for an audience of one – Me." Chuck said, turning to his editor. "And I," he stopped, and suddenly we were back in the bar. "Think we're finally getting somewhere." Chuck concluded, his anger gone in an instant. He returned to sit down at the booth, a computer now resting on the table.

"Chuck, when did you start writing this?" I asked, finally acknowledging how many pages there were to this book that nobody would read.

"Oh, this draft? Metatron's been helping me with it." Chuck said, focusing on the computer.

"I mean, when did you originally start, with the first draft?" I asked next. Chuck paused for a minute before not answering, choosing to type instead.

"You started writing the second she came back, didn't you?" Metatron asked. Chuck just kept typing. "No wonder you're on a deadline!" The former Scribe exclaimed. "Now I understand why you're masquerading in that sad, little meat suit! For the same reason you created this nostalgic bar to write your masterpiece in – you're hiding!"

"Okay. First of all, this gift," Chuck paused, looking up at us to motion to his own face. "Is super cute, right Kylie?" I didn't answer, awkwardly looking away instead. Chuck just sighed and kept going. "Secondly, I'm not hiding. I just like the ambiance in here."

" You said..." Metatron pointed an accusing finger at Chuck before motioning to the room around us. "The safest place ever created. Created by you... to keep you safe from Amara! She can't touch you in here, can she?!"

"You're upset. I-I understand. And it's good to let it out." Chuck nodded, turning back to his computer once more. "But, uh, Diana or Kylie or Kai or whatever she wants to be called, she's actually keeping it together pretty well versus you, so let's focus on, uh, finishing my book."

"You know, I was a crappy, terrible god." Metatron said, shaking his head. I nodded in agreeance.

"He really was."

"Stuff it, witch." Metatron ordered. I stared indignantly, but decided not to do anything just yet. "My work was pretty much a lame, half-assed rewrite of your greatest hits." He turned back to Chuck. "But at least I was never a coward!"

I could see the fire in Chuck's eyes as he got out of his seat, turning to face Metatron. That was when I felt it. I could feel what Crowley probably felt, when I was still learning how to summon fire. An immense amount of power, all surging up at once.

This time, though, it was directed at a specific person.

I held out a hand to try and stop it, but I was too late and not nearly powerful enough. Metatron went flying out the doors of the bar, and I could hear a loud thud as he met something hard and unyielding in the space outside.

Metatron gripped his shoulder, definitely in pain, but then he did the strangest thing. He chuckled, holding his injured shoulder as he limped back in to the bar.

"There he is." Metatron proclaimed, pointing a finger at Chuck. "That's the guy I know, the guy I love. I remember the first time I saw you. All the angels were terrified, but I wasn't." He said. "The feeling of your light was... was just beyond measure. And then the unthinkable. You picked me to help you with your tablets."

"You were just the closest angel to the door when I walked into the room." Chuck spat out, stalking towards Metatron. "There's nothing special about you, Metatron. Not then... not now." He said, his voice icy and clear. "Now, I've been called many things – absentee father, wrathful monster. But coward," Chuck shook his head. "I am not hiding." He declared. "I am just done watching my experiments' failures."

"You mean your failures, Chuck?" Metatron challenged. I could feel another power surge, just waiting to be directed somewhere.

"Please don't." I begged quickly, gaining their attention. "Metatron is a righteous ass, and in all honesty that throw was probably long overdue," this earned me a glare from the person in question. "But he has a bit of a point. Not a lot, but a bit. We're all supposed to be your children, right?" I asked, continuing before Chuck could answer. "And I get it, there's a time to take off the training wheels and step back, let the kid figure out how in the hell they're supposed to do their own damn laundry and pay their own parking tickets, but family still helps one another. Even in the face of certain doom, family tries it's best to protect one another. Parents try to protect their kids from getting slaughtered."

Run, Kylie! My father's voice rang out in the back of my mind as clear as a bell.

"Parents are there when you're 31 and just broke your leg, because you thought you could hang the Christmas lights on your crappy apartment balcony by yourself and you fell. Parents are there when you're getting married, getting divorced, or getting nowhere. Parents are there when you need them most, and in all honesty Chuck, I know how bad things have gotten in the world. The apocalypse has come and gone, as have Leviathans and angel anarchy and so much bad shit in the world. But this is your sister, your family, as well as eight billion clueless kids that all need someone to help." I pleaded.

Chuck shook his head. "You want to watch?" He asked me. "Do you really want to have a visual as to what I mean? Be my guest." He offered, waving a hand.

Where he motioned, three TV's suddenly appeared, all broadcasting different news channels.

"Reports are that there wasn't a cloud in the sky, but as we know a dense fog did roll in. And many citizens also are feeling some sort of impact from this fog."

I knew what this was about.

It was on Amara, and the damage her fog caused. It was like… Like unholy mustard gas that didn't kill you, but turned you in to a new kind of monster.

Chuck looked from me to Metatron as the news droned on. "If you ask me, they're all reruns." He said, returning to his seat in the booth with his computer.

I took a few steps towards Metatron, who looked as crestfallen as it gets. "Here," I moved his hand away from his injured shoulder, and placed my own on it. All in all, his whole shoulder was out of socket, and he had two minor breaks in his collarbone. I focused on the angel energy in me, and used a little bit to heal Metatron. He looked at me in surprise once I removed my hand. "Even a righteous asshole can be healed." I muttered, turning to the bar.

I knew there was hard liquor back there somewhere, and it looked like the poor guy needed about five different shots of it.


	23. Life Is Hard

Chuck continued to write his "audience of one" book as I watched the news reports, trying to figure out anything I could do to combat the fog. Metatron took the seat next to me, wallowing in his sorrows with whatever bottle I would kindly wave over for him.

I focused heavily on my new problem, though – defending the people from Amara's fog. If I could formulate some sort of spell or protective bubble kind of thing, it could do a lot of good.

I started scribbling out ideas on a few bar napkins with a pen I found in the drawer. A huge protection bubble probably wasn't the worst idea. Sam had told me about the holy fire thing a while back during my research, in hopes that it would help. Maybe somehow a permanent ring of holy fire?

I kept scribbling away, trying to figure out a few ideas that might somehow stand a chance against the power of God's friggin sister.

"So, why the videotape career?" I asked, taking a short break as I faced Metatron. I waved myself a beer over at this point so he wouldn't drink alone. "I mean, you were the editor for some pretty important people. Why a crappy, stereotypical homeless career?"

"You know, you really are a terrific editor, Metatron." Chuck added, still typing.

Metatron just chuckled sourly. "Well, I was a terrible writer." He responded. "A worse god. It's good I've got something going for me."

Chuck turned to us, taking off his glasses for a moment as his fingers finally stilled. "Yeah, you know, I have to say, I didn't see the whole evil-turn thing coming. And quite frankly, the re-naming for you was a bit of a shock as well." He told us. "Which do you prefer anyways? You never answered."

"Right now, Diana, I guess." I answered, turning back to my work. "Kylie's dead."

I neglected to add on the part about his son killing her.

"Mm-hmm." Metatron agreed, finishing off his… I want to say maybe fifth beer?

Chuck just chuckled. "Why did you try to be me?" He asked Metatron.

"That was just a sad, pathetic cry for attention." Metatron answer. Chuck let out a small laugh again.

"Who's attention were you trying to get?" He asked. Oh come on! Even I knew the answer to that one.

"Yours." Metatron answered bleakly. "You are light... and beauty. Creation." He took a breath, and I assumed he was watching Chuck's responses (or another boot out the door) before continuing. "Wrath. Damnation and Salvation," I heard his voice crack, and when I glanced over I saw there were tears in his eyes. "And I don't care if I was just the angel nearest the door. You picked me! Your light shined on me – Me! Oh, and the warmth. But then you left me. You left all of us. It wasn't just the saps who were praying to you. The angels prayed, too. And so did I – every day."

"I know." Chuck replied quietly.

"You want to sell the best-selling autobiography of all time?" Metatron asked. "You explain to me – Tell me why you abandoned me. Us."

"Because you disappointed me." He replied. "You all disappointed me."

"Thanks." I murmured. Beside me, Metatron rose from his barstool

"No." He said defiantly. "Look, I know I'm a disappointment, but you're wrong about humanity. They are your greatest creation because they're better than you are." I stopped then, surprised at the words Metatron was saying. All this, from the guy who locked me in Heaven's jail? "Yeah, sure, they're weak and they cheat and steal and... destroy and disappoint. But they also give and create and they sing and dance and love. I mean, look at Diana over here!" He exclaimed, motioning to me. "I have done… awful things to her. To her relationship. I brought her back from the dead as a way to distract Castiel, and then I toyed with her mind because it was fun. But look at what she's doing!" He took one of my napkins, and held it up for Chuck to see. "She's here, in your bar, working on this! She's lost everything, and is still trying to figure out a way to save the day. You may not have expected her to go full method, but she's sticking to it and she is putting forth her best effort to try and help this mess. This girl, this human girl," he put my napkin back down. "She never gives up, just like the Winchesters never give up. But you do!"

Chuck looked devastated, looking from me to Metatron as the latter stopped speaking. Metatron continued to look at Chuck, tears rolling down his cheeks. Chuck just put back on his glasses, cleared his throat, and went back to typing; a new wave of determination lighting the backs of his eyes. Metatron just… he looked heart-broken.

"Want another drink?" I asked. He nodded, sinking back in to the seat beside me. I waved over something stronger, whiskey, and a glass to pour it in. Metatron disregarded the glass, and drank straight from the bottle.

"Thank you." He said.

"No problem."

"I'm sorry for being so cruel to you." He said next. I shook my head, scribbling out a few new notes.

"This is the end." I answered. "It's kind of a moot point to hold grudges now, isn't it?"

"I heard about the engagement." He said, stopping my writing. I glanced over at the ring, just for a moment. "I'm sorry for what happened. Personally, I kind of liked that you guys stuck it out together for so long. It made for a great story."

"Thanks."

"Why are you being nice to me?" He asked next. I stopped writing then, and really looked over at him.

But I wasn't looking at Metatron, not really. He may have been in front of me, but in the back of my mind I saw the faces of my two brothers after mom left. I saw that look of hope, fear, self-blame, and remnants of tear-streaked faces after the hard days; the days where they got teased for not being wanted, and Josiah would eventually punch the offender because Art was already crying and Art couldn't punch them, because they always moved out of his wheeling range and behind him to punch his chair around.

And then I'd get the call, because dad had work and I'd secretly changed the number in the files from his to mine so that I could go in for them without him knowing. I'd go in, I'd listen to the principal berate them and turn to me and ask where my father was.

"He's out at work." I'd always answer, giving him a well-forged note and an excuse that would somehow be accepted. I think the principal knew that I was lying, that he never actually called my dad, but he also always took pity on me and my brothers.

Then I'd walk the brothers home, because they wouldn't be allowed at school for the rest of the day, and get the work I missed the next day. We'd sit at home, they'd tell me everything, and we'd talk about it and I'd do what I could to help them understand, well, whatever.

And they'd always wear that look on their faces, the one Metatron was wearing now, whenever they asked me about mom.

Hope that I could say something that would magically bring her back, apologizing and being our mom again.

Fear that I would be mad, or would tell them what they couldn't bear to hear at that point (that mom had already sent dad the divorce papers), or that I might disappear just as well.

Self-blame, because they blamed themselves for her leaving, blamed themselves for not being good enough, blamed themselves for getting in trouble so much now when they used to be good kids, never even talked down to by teachers.

"Because I get it." I said simply. "I get where you're coming from, I get how you feel, and I think you deserve someone there to help you out."

"Even though I was a jerk to you?"

 _"I've been being a huge jerk, Kylie." Josiah said. It was just me and him, talking out why he kept acting out. He'd finally come to his damned senses. "I keep being a huge jerk towards my friends, and they all stopped talking to me. I was a jerk to dad, and now he hates me." Dad had grounded him after the two had gotten in to a shouting match. I knew it would all be fine later. "So why are you still here? Even Art has stopped hanging out with me. Why do you keep showing up to help?"_

 _"Because I'm your sister." I'd told him. "I'm your big sister, I'm your family, and we're in this together, sink or swim. So of course, I'm going to help you out. What else would I do without you?"_

 _"But Art and daddy are family." He argued. I sighed, and put an arm around him._

 _"Look, life is hard, it's immensely hard. Stuff happens that you can't control, stuff that reverberates and sticks with you for a long time. This is some of that stuff." I explained. "And I don't think you want to stick it out alone, do you?" Josiah nodded. "I didn't think so. That's why I'm here – to make sure you're not alone in this. It's a terrible thing, to be alone, and I can't do that to you, no matter how much of a jerk you are." I smiled at him, ruffling his hair a little. "You have the nicest big sister in the world. You're just gonna have to accept that, and start fixing your act before the nicest sister turns in to the one that kicks your butt the most." Josiah laughed at that._

"Because life is hard, it's immensely hard. Stuff happens that you can't control, stuff that reverberates and sticks with you for a long time. And I'm here to make sure that you're not alone in this." I told Metatron. "It's a terrible thing, to be alone, and I can't do that to you or anyone for that matter, no matter how much of a jerk you are." He looked a little more hopeful then, like he wasn't as bad as he thought he was. It was the same look Josiah had worn. "You're just lucky that you happen to know probably the nicest witch in the world right now." I let out a smirk. "And probably the last nice one too."

We both sat there for a while, until Chuck stopped his typing. "Oh Yeah! Ahh," I heard the booth squeak a little behind us as Chuck got up. "You know, I lied before." He said.

"About what?" I asked, looking from Metatron to Chuck. Metatron just stared glumly at the stack of pages on the table, while Chuck walked towards the stage.

"I didn't really learn to play guitar." He explained, taking off his jacket. It fell to the stage floor as he took a seat on a stool "I just kind of... gave myself the ability. I did the same when I 'learned' French. Man," he clapped his hands together, content with himself. "This whole honesty thing… It's really freeing." He picked up a guitar that had appeared beside him. "Oh, Diana, you forgot to carry the decimal on that problem there."

I looked down at the math I was doing and saw that he was, indeed, right. That screwed up my calculations for the whole setup. I crumpled up the napkin and threw it off to the side, with a small pile of other napkins I had scribbled on and discarded, somehow knowing that they wouldn't work.

"If you want, you can use some of the paper from the printer." He offered. "It'll be easier than napkins, I'm sure. Oh, and speaking of pages, why don't you guys take a look at the new manuscript together?" He looked at Metatron pointedly. "You know you want to."

"I think I'll pass." Metatron declined glumly. Chuck strummed out a few experimental notes, getting the feel of the guitar.

"I think you're really gonna like them!" He coughed as we all winced at how high his voice went, along with the feedback from the microphone.

"I think you're sharp." I told him, hopping off the barstool. I walked over to the pages, and picked them all up to bring them to Metatron. I knew he would want to read them in a minute.

"You're right. It-It's a little high." He agreed, strumming a few more notes. When Metatron didn't even so much as glance at the pages next to him, Chuck sighed. "All right. Suit yourselves."

Then he started to play, his voice sweet and sour and bitter like… Well…

Like whiskey. Good and smooth and burning every second, but not an intense kind of burn. More like a slow one, that was there in the background to keep you awake, but not enough to throw you off completely.

He sounded like a man that had been to war, and was remembering the memory of a fallen comrade, right before they'd passed.

He sounded like Dean, when he talked to me about Lisa once.

He sounded like Sam when he talked about college, and the life he'd had in it.

He sounded like Crowley when he talked about reclaiming Hell one last time.

He sounded like every person who's ever almost had everything they could ever ask for, every person who has ever seen or come close to touching what looked like absolute happiness and innocence and pure good in the world, before it got ripped away from them.

He sounded like an old and tired dog, finally ready to lay down and rest it's head.

Metatron grabbed the pages in front of him, setting down his whiskey. As he read through Chuck's new (and more than likely final) draft, I could see a flurry of emotions scrawled across his face. Hope. Fear. Confusion. Interest. Surprise. Emotion.

Just pure, raw, human emotion.

The scene changed. I was no longer in a bar. I was beside Chuck, in a town somewhere I hadn't been to before. People were running and milling and embracing others and making sure they were OK, looking so surprised and overjoyed and thankful. It was as if they'd all just experienced a great tragedy, and just narrowly avoided sheer disaster.

"Where are we?" I asked, looking around more.

"Hope Springs, Idaho." He answered.

"Hope springs eternal." I muttered, smiling. I looked over and saw a girl on the ground, looking dazed and confused. I moved towards her quickly, and Chuck followed. "Are you OK?" I asked as we both helped her up.

She nodded, looking relieved, before seeing someone behind me. "Mom!" She shouted, running past us. I turned to see her embracing another older woman, presumably her mother, and felt a pang of sadness.

Then I felt Chuck's hand on my shoulder, turning me back around. Sam and Dean stood across from us, holding a glowing amulet out in front of them. They stared at me and him, looking confused and awe-struck.

Chuck walked confidently over to Sam and Dean, smiling calmly at their astonished faces. "We should probably talk." Chuck said, his smile turning to a grimace.


	24. Ghosts In The Bunker

"What the hell's going on here, exactly?" Dean asked first, looking from Chuck to me. "And who is she?"

On one hand, I was glad that they didn't recognize me. It would probably be for the best. On the other hand…

I kind of wished that they did, and kind of wanted the homecoming hug of "thank Chuck you're alive." But that wasn't going to happen.

"I'm happy to... fill in the blanks, let Diana fill in questions you have for her herself," Chuck promised. "But maybe we should go somewhere where we could actually sit down."

"We're not going anywhere with you." Dean argued. "Okay, how do we even know that you're really Chuck and not just some," as he talked, we disappeared from Hope Springs and were standing in the middle of the Bunker. "Crazy spell or manifest...ation." Dean finished, looking around.

Then I felt someone behind me, poking my shoulder. "You may hide from them, but you can't hide from me."

I whirled around just in time to see Kevin smiling, giving me a huge hug before walking around past me.

"Kevin?" Sam asked. He looked so… Terrified, for just a moment.

Hell, I agreed with him.

"Guys!" Keving exclaimed. "You're looking stressed. Especially you." He pointed at Dean, and I snickered. "It… It's cool. Trust Chuck. Whatever it is he needs you to do, he must think you can handle it. I always trusted you." Kevin told them, taking a glance back at me.

"Yeah, that ended well." Dean scoffed. I couldn't help but agree. I still felt as though I failed him.

"How did you – Are you okay, or – uh?" Sam was at a loss for words.

"Um... Yeah, I mean, you know, given the circumstances." Kevin answered, whirling his index finger above his head.

"Yeah, I don't mean to interrupt. Kind of a plateful here. And, Kevin... you've been in the Veil long enough. It's time you had an upgrade." Chuck was about to wave his hand, but I stopped him.

"Can I…" I took a deep breath. "You explain to them. Give me five minutes?" I asked. Chuck lowered his hand, nodding, and Kevin lead me away from the brothers.

Once we were out of earshot, I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding. "Holy crap." I said, staring at him. "You… You…"

"I know." He smiled, nodding. I put a hand out, focusing my power.

I didn't pass through him, but instead found myself met with what appeared to be solid skin. Kevin looked down, impressed. "Wow. I knew you'd gone witch, but I hadn't realized how good you'd gotten. Kudos!"

That was when I reached out and hugged him. I missed him so much. I felt myself start to tear up a bit at all that was happening. "Hey, hey," Kevin pushed on my shoulders, bringing me face to face with him. "I didn't make a special guest star appearance here to see my best friend bawling her eyes out."

"I just…" I shook my head. "I can't believe you're here."

"I can't believe you're alive." Kevin answered. "Dean and Sam called my mom and told her you were dead. We both thought you were dead. I searched through the Veil for you, but I couldn't find you. I thought you'd gone up or down." He said. "You've got to call my mom, tell her you're still alive."

"Not now." I told him, shaking my head. He looked confused.

"Why not?"

"Lucifer has Cas." I said. His face fell as I told him everything, told him how Lucifer had tried to kill me and how I'd had to hide. "I can't tell you mom until I know Lucifer is out of the picture and she's going to be safe. I don't want to put her in any danger."

"Oh." He said. "Oh damn this is bad. But… The wedding…" He motioned to the ring I still wore, though I still had it disguised. "I know that's the ring Cas gave you. What about all of that? What about your life?"

"It's not safe for that anymore." I told him. "And I don't know when it'll be safe, but until then Kylie is… She's still dead."

"Alright." Kevin said. "Then… will you tell my mom that I went to Heaven?" He asked. "She'll wonder where I've gone. I don't care how you tell her or explain it, but tell her that I'm fine." He thought for a moment. "And that you are too. She worries about you."

"You do good in Heaven, alright?" I told him. I knew our five minutes were almost up. He just nodded.

"You do good here." He replied. "And visit me if you get the chance. I know you can do some cool as all hell witchy stuff. If you can pop up and say hi, I'd love to see you."

"I'll do what I can." I promised, hugging him again quickly.

For a moment, it was as though everything was normal again. I could touch him, I could talk and confide in him, I could just be with my best friend.

"You're the best sister I never had." He whispered.

"And you're the best brother." I agreed. I was tearing up again, I could hear it even, but this time Kevin didn't say anything.

I didn't know ghosts could cry until we pulled away, and I saw his face.

"Alright, you ready for that upgrade Kevin?" Chuck asked from behind me. I turned around, and saw Sam and Dean behind Chuck. Their eyes weren't necessarily dry either.

"Yeah." Kevin said. I turned around to see him wave at Sam and Dean. "You guys do good by Diana, alright?" He told the brothers.

"Alright." They agreed. Then Kevin turned in to a ball of light, and shot up skywards. I took a deep breath, wiping my eyes.

"Thank you, Chuck." I said, not able to turn around and face them just yet. I wanted to make sure I wasn't going to cry again.

"So, Diana, how do you know Kevin?" Sam asked from behind me. I took a deep breath before turning to face them all.

"We were in advanced placement." Not a lie, just we weren't at the same school for it. "He was there for me when my mom died and a lot of shit hit the fan. I used to be really close with his mom, too. He's… He's like family to me."

None of it a lie, just not the whole truth.

"If you want to talk to his mom, she's alive." Dean offered, pulling out his cell phone. I shook my head.

"She doesn't know about…" I motioned to myself. "She doesn't know I'm a witch."

"I'm sure she'd understand." Sam said.

"I can't do it right now." I replied quickly, shaking my head. "I… I'll call her later, I promise, but right now… I just can't do it now."

"Alright." Dean put his phone away, and I took a few shaky steps towards the trio.

"So, what now?" I asked, clapping my hands together. "I know you two probably have questions for why I'm here and why I showed up with Chuck," before I could continue, Chuck cut me off.

"Actually, I already told them a bit about that part." He said. "How you managed to summon me."

"That must mean you're packing some serious mojo." Dean commented, stepping forwards to clap me on the shoulder. "You finally brought the big guy down to play. I'm not certain whether to give you a beer or run for dear life."

"I don't drink." I answered. "At least, not usually."

"So, beer?" Sam offered. I nodded.

"Yeah, that sounds good." I agreed. Sam walked past me, leaving me with Chuck. "Thank you." I told him, rubbing my arm. "For everything."

"It's no problem." Chuck assured me. "When are you going to tell them?"

"Like I told Kevin, when it's safe." I said.

"And when is that?"

"When Lucifer and Amara are gone." I stated firmly. "That's when it'll be safe."

"Alright." Chuck agreed, walking past me. "Come on. Let's go get that beer."

So we went to sit around the B.A.M.T. with the brothers, and I drank my beer quietly as Chuck briefed us on Amara.

"You have to understand this about the Darkness," Chuck said. "She's relentless, a force beyond human comprehension. It's the only reason I came off the sidelines when Diana called."

"Must have been great being her brother, huh?" Sam asked.

"It was the worst." Chuck agreed. "Always telling me what to do, making me do what she wanted. I mean, you all know how that works."

"You been doing your own research on this thing?" Dean asked. "How'd you get wind of it?"

"Disturbance in the force." I said. "She's got her own set of power and magic that I could kind of feel when it showed up. Afterwards, I tuned in to the news and paid attention. I was able to piece together what was going on from the chatter of other creatures and stuff."

"So, where is she?" Dean asked. I shrugged.

"No freakin' idea, fellas." Chuck agreed. "She's warded herself specifically against me, and Diana hasn't been able to get a solid location on her either. What have you come up with?"

"Zip, and we've been at it for months." Dean said.

"Well...matter of time." Chuck amended. "I've always had faith in you, even if you didn't return the favor." Ouch. "Where's the guest room? I could use a shower."

"Uh, it's, um... just down the hallway." Sam said, sounding confused. "The fourth door on the left."

Dean let out a sigh. "Hey, Chuck. You know that she's got Lucifer, right?"

"Uh-huh." Chuck nodded.

"The way we heard it, um," Sam rubbed the back of his neck. "Last time when you bottled up the Darkness, it… it took more than just you. I mean, we heard that Lucifer was involved."

"No."

"No?" Dean asked.

"Lucifer was perhaps my greatest hope and my bitterest disappointment. Do you think if I could have trusted him for a moment, I would have put him in the Cage? And I wasn't gonna mention this, but thank you so much for springing him." Chuck replied, his words biting.

"That wasn't really the plan, um…" Sam didn't look certain as to what to say. I had to agree, though. I knew that they didn't intend to let him out, that was Castiel's choice.

"Now, as bad as he was, after all this time in prison, he's probably worse. And by now, he could have formed an alliance with Amara!" I hoped that that hadn't happened. "Not walking into that trap, guys. So, no." Chuck got up from the table, moving towards the spare room Sam had talked about. "Thus spake the Lord." He added before walking away.

Sam and Dean stared at me, confused. I just shrugged.

"We haven't been hanging out solo very long." I said. "I knew the important bits, but… Lucifer is a touchy subject for him, as is Amara."

"Alright. Fair enough." Sam conceded. "So, you could summon God, but you can't get a solid handle on Amara?"

"Not quite." I said. "I've got a few experimental spells that I could try at some point, but they're for either getting her to me or me to her. If I do that, I'm pretty much signing my death warrant."

"So instead of going for Amara you decided to grab Chuck?" Dean asked. I nodded. "Smart."

"Wait, you can make your own spells?"

"Kind of. It's difficult to explain." I thought for a moment. "If I disappear for, like, a minute to grab my notes from my safehouse and re-appear, would that be alright? They've got everything I have."

"Yeah, no problem." Sam agreed. "Just… Umm… Can you come directly in to the Bunker?"

"Not without Chuck." I answered. "This place is warded extremely well. I'd need to show back up outside the door. You…" I took a deep breath. "You'll let me back in, right?"

The brothers exchanged a slightly unsure glance before nodding. "Yeah." Dean agreed. "We'll let you back in."

"Thanks."

I disappeared then, back to the cabin so I could get my notes. At some point, I would have to sneak these books back in to the Bunker. But not just yet.

If anything, I could leave the door unlocked or come in and out late at night.

But I didn't do that. Instead I grabbed the notebook, my laptop, and anything else that I had written down as notes. I stuffed them all in a plastic shopping bag, and then went for clothing.

If I was going to be staying in the Bunker, I probably needed some clothes – at least a change out of my scorched ones.

I threw a few sets of clothes in to a separate plastic bag, and changed out of my own quickly. I understood how Sam and Dean didn't recognize me, now. It wasn't just the enchantment.

Nothing about me looked like the person they'd last seen. Different clothes, my hair had kept up the dye job I'd done on it, and I'd gotten so used to wearing colored contacts I couldn't quite remember how my eyes looked on their own, now.

They were hazel, with a bit of a gold tinge if you saw them in the right light.

Now, with the contacts, they were a simple dark brown.

I could probably lose the enchantment that altered my features, and they wouldn't even notice, much less notice that I was me.

But I wouldn't, because that would be what hurt the most. No magic disguising me, and they still wouldn't have any idea who stood before them?

No, I couldn't do that.

I grabbed my bags and disappeared back to the exterior of the Bunker. The door was, thankfully, open, with Dean and Sam waiting outside it.

I felt relieved at that.

I had worried that they might not for a moment.

"Plastic bags?" Sam asked, motioning to the objects in question.

"Yeah."

"Don't you have a bag?"

"No." I shrugged. "It…" I took a deep breath. "It's ok if I stay here too, right?" I asked nervously.

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Why not?"

"You two are Hunters." I pointed out. "Kinda famous for killing witches, right?"

"Chuck is cool with you, and so was Kevin." Dean pointed out. "At this point, it's kind of all-hands-on-deck, isn't it?"

"Great." I moved past them, walking in to the Bunker confidently. "Any particular room?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'll show you." Sam offered. I moved out of his way so he could take the lead.

When we walked past my former room, I noticed Sam pause for a moment. "Is this it?" I asked, feigning innocence. Before Sam could answer, though, I pushed past him to open the door.

It was bare.

Nothing of mine was in there anymore.

"No." Sam said quickly, pulling me out while he closed the door. "No, it's not."

"Who's staying there?" I asked.

"Nobody."

"Did someone used to stay there?" I asked. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Look, there are three rooms here that are kind of off-limits for personal reasons, alright?" He said. "That's one of them."

"Is the other… Kevin's?" I asked. "You guys seemed to know him well. I'm guessing he lived here for a while too."

"Yeah, it is." Sam said. "He's got a bunch of notebooks and stuff in his room, if you need to use them."

"All his stuff is still there?" I asked. I already knew the answer was yes, but I wanted to hear Sam say it.

"Yeah." He admitted. "It's all there. His mom took a few things from it, but… He's dead. He was a ghost." Sam shrugged. "Seemed kinda pointless for her to take all his stuff."

"What happened to that person, then?" I asked, pointing at my old room. "The one that had stayed there?"

"She…" Sam shook his head. "She died too."

"Oh."

We walked in silence to my new room, maybe three doors down from my old room. Dean and Sam's rooms were right next to mine, and Castiel's was down the hall a little farther, and to the left. I knew Chuck's was back before my room, one of the slightly nicer rooms in the Bunker.

"What about the third room?" I asked, standing outside the door of my own new one. "Who did it belong to, and where is it?" Sam looked hesitant to tell me. "Just so I know where to not go." I assured him, setting down my two bags on the otherwise untouched bed.

Sam let out a sigh. "Alright. Follow me."

He led me to Castiel's room, the door slightly ajar to it. "Whose room was it?" I asked, opening the door slightly.

"It belonged to Castiel." He said. "He's an angel."

"Did he die too?" I asked, slightly worried.

"No." Sam said quickly. "He just… We'll explain later." He promised. "Go ahead and get settled in. Dean and I will explain a few things later."

"Alright." I followed him back to my new room, and I sat down on my new bed for a moment.

Castiel's room was left as it had been, too. Nothing had been removed from his room. It was just mine.

Only mine had been cleaned out.


	25. Planning Against Amara

"Anything?" Dean asked me and Sam, offering us beers. I accepted mine with a smile, pouring over my notes.

"Nada." Sam said, accepting his drink.

"Nothing here, too." I agreed. "Each spell I try just fizzles out. I actually burnt more holes in this shirt." I said, holding up the fringes of said shirt.

"Yeah." Dean nodded, cracking open his own. "You're gonna run out of shirts at this rate."

"You know, I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but, for once, I actually wish Rowena was here. I mean, maybe she could track down Amara. She's done it before."

"Yeah, but you can bet she and the Book are gonna stay stashed until this whole thing is over. Where's Chuck?"

I shrugged as Sam answered. "Sleeping in, I guess."

"Does God sleep?" Dean asked.

"I know he takes really long showers."

"Right?" Dean agreed. "And sings, too… Like… crappy old folk songs. I had to tell him to cool it three times."

"You told God to cool it?" Sam asked with a laugh.

"Yeah, I sleep. Don't you agree, Diana?" He asked.

"I actually like his singing voice." I answered.

"You know, I know this is a really strange situation and all, but it's also really amazing, you know? I mean, it's God." Sam let out a small chuckle. "There's so many things I want to ask him, uh, like, uh, t-the planets, you know? Why are they round? Or ears. I always thought they were strange," he could've gone on, but Dean cut him off.

"Okay, fanboy, calm down." He said. "Let's stay focused. We got to find Lucifer before it's too late."

"Find Lucifer?" I asked.

"Too late?" Sam asked.

Dean just nodded. "Amara is… she's in my head." Both of us cast him sharp looks. "Hey, I didn't ask for it, okay? She just showed up. But she's showing me visions of…" I could almost hear him say Castiel's name, but he changed his mind. "Of Lucifer." Dean fixed. "By Lucifer, I mean Cas, and he looks like crap," I let out a small wince. "Like she's really doing a number on him."

I saw Chuck walking in behind Dean, wearing a robe that certainly wasn't his. "Shush." I told them quickly.

"Hey. Morning." Sam said, and I could hear him snicker as Dean turned around.

Dean did a doubletake. "Is that my robe?"

"I'm telling you guys, it's a mistake to get mixed up with Lucifer." Chuck warned us. "Diana, you know more than anything. And as much as it pained me, I had to walk away. Too much drama." He walked past us. "Do you have any bacon?"

"You eat bacon?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

"I'll cook for everyone." I offered. "Anybody want anything else besides bacon? Eggs? Toast?"

"I'll say yes to that!" Dean said, smiling brightly. Sam suddenly got all of our attention.

"Hey, guys, this just came up. Looks like that fog, the, um... Amara fog, uh, hit another town." He said.

"And?" Dean asked.

"And this one wasn't as lucky as the last one. Thousands died. Uh, everybody died. But, uh, except for one man."

Dean turned to Chuck, surprised and… slightly angry. "How'd you miss that one?" He asked.

"She's baiting me. I can't respond every time." Chuck explained. "I won't be manipulated."

"Yeah, but thousands of people are dead." Dean argued.

"Unfortunately." Chuck agreed. "So find her."

"Here, look at these," I swirled my notebook around to Chuck and Dean. "I'm trying to figure out something that will protect towns. Any of these plans look plausible or workable?" I had negative feelings on all of them, but I wanted Chuck's opinion on it just in case.

"Oh yeah, they all look plausible." Chuck agreed, nodding as he flipped through the pages. "Not against Amara, of course, but against anything else with lesser power yeah!"

"Great." I muttered, snagging the theories back from them. Dean cocked his head to the side, turning the page as he tried to make sense of one of them.

"What in the hell did you write this in?" He asked. "It's… Weird and circly and not English."

"Pictish Swirl." Chuck answered. "Good job, by the way. They really are good. Just not powerful enough."

"Thanks." I grabbed the page from Dean, looked at it, and crumpled it up in to a ball. "So, bacon, eggs, and toast, all in favor?" I got four raised hands, with two being from Dean. "Awesome, be back in a minute."

When I returned with the food, Sam and Dean were suited up to leave. I shrugged, threw the bacon and eggs on top of the toast for the brothers, and they left to go investigate the sole survivor. I stayed behind with Chuck, who munched happily away at his food as I tried to figure out different ways to protect towns.

"What about a… A blimp?" I offered. "One that…" I let out a sigh. "One that rains magic protection dust all over the world, and sends us in to a thousand centuries of peace?"

"Now you're phishing." Chuck commented, pointing a piece of bacon at me. "They recognized your writing."

"What?!" I asked.

"The swirly letters. Sam saw them on your notes before. He has copies. He'll probably ask you to translate."

"Do they know?"

"No." Chuck assured me. "Just letting you know."

"Ok." I nodded, and focused on working again. "Any chance that any idea or thing I formulate has a shot at working to defend people against Amara."

"Oh yeah."

"How much?"

"Well, your blimp protection dust idea, I'd say somewhere in the point-zero range," he answered. "But some of them have promise."

"Really? Like what?" I dared.

"I dunno. The idea of a protecting ring wasn't bad." He said. "And the anti-Amara jewelry too."

"Just out of curiosity, why're you letting me think all these up?" I asked. "I mean, you're gonna stop Amara, right? You said that was why you came back. Why should I worry about defending against her if you're going to trap her again when we find her?"

When he didn't answer, I had a bad feeling.

"You… You are going to stop her, right?" I asked. "And why did you voluntarily write a book nobody will read? I mean, you wrote for an audience of one, but we all know you want others to fill in that audience too. That's why you beamed me in with you and Metatron, so you wouldn't be lonely."

He didn't answer still, just kept eating. "Chuck," I said slowly. "Do you intend to win?"

"I do."

"And how do you define winning?"

"I know Amara, Diana." He said. "Her beef is with me, not the rest of you."

"So, what, are you just going to roll over and give up?" I asked. He just pushed his empty plate aside. "Seriously? That's what you came back for? To give her the world? To die and give up?"

"It's a solid strategy." Chuck defended. "And I won't be dying. I'll be caged. I'll trade myself for... everything I created. The world will keep spinning, life will go on," he shrugged. "The world has gone on without me being an active part of it for a fair amount of time. I'm certain that it can continue if Amara and I switch places."

"Hell hath no fury like a scorned woman." I stated. "And your sister is that times, like, at least an infinity amount of millions. She's been locked up since the dawn of time, maybe a little earlier!" I took a breath. "She wants the world, alright, but she'll want to destroy it. You picked this over her. She won't want to keep the rest of us along as a reminder of that."

"If my plan doesn't work, then the rest of you will step up. You, Sam, Dean, Cas, all of you will have to find a way." He motioned to my notes. "Like you're doing now."

"You said that nothing I was doing was going to be strong enough."

"Not on your own." He said. "You'll need some angel juice in there to offset the rest of the power needed, without overblowing it and destroying everything."

"Don't I already have that?"

"Yours is diluted, backlash from a spell." He answered. "You would need pure angelic power."

"Like grace?" I asked. "I still have some of Metatron's left over. I could easily use that."

"You would need a lot more than what I'm estimating is… One-third of a vial left." He guessed.

"Half." I muttered. Chuck just smiled.

"But you see my point?" He asked. "Your best bet would be the individualized necklaces or bracelets or charms, something that people could keep on them easily. The problem then lies in having enough juice to do that many, and widespread distribution. That's where having the angels comes in."

"You want me to work with the angels?"

"If it comes to that, yes." Chuck agreed. "Amara is torturing Lucifer right now, according to Dean. This indicates that she hasn't made an alliance with him. He would be able to get you the distribution and angel magic to make it work."

"What about Cas?" I offered.

"Lucifer is still in control."

"He could cast him out?"

"You know that won't happen." Chuck reminded me. "Not as long as Amara is still a threat."

I went back to work as Chuck got up, taking his plate with him. His words cycled through over and over in my head, almost like a broken record.

Chuck returned a little later with what looked like Dean's laptop, and made a sour face at it. "Wow. That is a LOT of porn." He flicked the laptop around to me. "Did you know about all this?" He asked. I ignored it, and kept working. "Suit yourself." He muttered, flicking through Dean's computer.

He was right, after all.

As long as Amara was out there, and a threat, I was going to have work to do.


	26. Donatello The Mutant Ninja Prophet

When Dean and Sam brought back Donatello, it was interesting.

"Hey, Chuck. Hey Diana." Dean said. "We, uh, found someone. I think he's the next prophet."

"Neat-o." Chuck said. I looked up, my interest peaked.

"Prophet?" I asked. Dean nodded at me before returning his attention to Chuck.

"Is that my computer?" He asked.

"I've never seen so much porn. Not in one sitting." Chuck stated, looking a mixture of impressed and aghast. Dean just close the laptop carefully, removing it from his hands.

"So, uh, listen. The prophet guy, Donatello, He… He's… He's a little nutted out about the whole booga-booga of it all, so maybe just dial back the, um, the God stuff?" He requested. "And a bit of the witchy stuff?"

"Sure." I promised, hearing the door open. Dean shook his head, taking one last glance at Chuck before turning to the staircase.

"No pants on." He muttered. "Great. Sam?" He called up.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"All right, you're safe. Come on." Sam walked down the stairs, a portly older man with glasses and… Oh my god was he actually wearing tweed?

Yeah. Yeah, the guy, presumably Donatello, the prophet, trailed along behind Sam like a terrified puppy in tweed.

Chuck stood to greet them, and let out a sigh. "Donatello, good to see ya." He said. "Sorry about your cat."

"You… You know me?" He asked Chuck, turning to me. "Do you know me?"

I shook my head as Chuck answered. "I made you." He said simply. "I made all of you, even the ones who aren't born yet."

"Oh, my God." I fought back a snicker at Donny's choice of words. "It's you. G-Good to meet you, Sir! Your, your celestial magnificence, your,"

Well, if Chuck wasn't going to care, maybe I shouldn't either. I waved a hand, and he stopped talking instantly. Chuck just turned to me, shaking his head before advancing on the new prophet. "Hey, hey, hey, it's okay." He assured the guy.

"He… He just kind of goes by Chuck." Sam offered. Chuck smiled, clapping Donny boy on the shoulder.

"So, we good? You all signed up?" He asked.

"Uh...I-I-I guess you know that I was an atheist, until 10 minutes ago. Is that an issue?" He asked.

"I was too until all of this, don't worry." I called up to him, still remaining in my seat. Chuck tried to assure him again.

"Not for me. I mean, I believe in me," Chuck said. "But your skepticism is to be expected. I did include free will in the kit." He chuckled a little before turning to reclaim his seat at the table. "Welcome aboard."

"I think I might faint." Donatello proclaimed. A second later, he did, with Sam and Dean rushing to stop him from hitting the ground.

I held a hand out before either of the two could get to the new prophet, raising the unconscious man up and over to a chair. He slumped in to it easily.

"Really?" Dean asked, looking from me to Chuck. "I thought you two agreed to keep the whole schebang to a minimum."

"Technically, she only agreed." Chuck pointed out, pointing an accusing finger at me. I shrugged.

"God started it." I argued back. "I just went along with it. And what would you have preferred? A prophet with a sizeable lump on his head or one that's unharmed?"

"What about the shutting him up thing?" Sam asked.

"I think we can all agree that if I hadn't he would've just kept babbling." I stated.

"That actually might've been a bit uncalled for." Chuck mentioned.

"What, and stating that you made him and everyone else wasn't?"

"But, I did." Chuck reminded me. Sam and Dean just stared at us, bewildered.

"Look, we've gotta go check out one more lead, but you two just…" Dean sighed. "Keep an eye on Ninja-Turtle-in-Training, OK?" He requested. "And take it easy on the poor guy."

"I will follow God's lead." I promised, turning back to my notes so I could hide a smile. The Winchesters let out groans.

"We're serious, Kylie." Sam insisted.

That was when the air changed. I looked up, a mix of worry and hope in my eyes. "What did you say?" I asked him.

"I said we were serious." Sam stated, his voice tense.

"You called me Kylie." I told him. "That…" I had to think fast. "That was the name of the girl, wasn't it? The girl whose room I'm not allowed in."

"Yeah." Dean said simply. "Yeah, it was, and now she's dead."

"How come her room was cleaned out?" I asked. "Kevin's and… Castiel's rooms, they still had all their stuff in them, but Kylie's," it was weird, referring to myself in 3rd person. "It looked as though nobody had even been in there."

"That's none of your business." Dean stated brusquely. "Now we have to go, so, just… Keep an eye on the guy. Don't give him a heart attack. Stay out of the porn on my laptop." He aimed the last one at Chuck, who held up his hands in submission.

Then they left, the door clanging shut behind them.


	27. Sam And Dean (3rd Person POV)

"You called her Kylie." Dean stated, driving the Impala to meet Metatron. It wasn't an accusation, or an insult, just a statement.

"I didn't mean to." Sam explained. "But with the witch stuff and the comments and everything, I don't know. For a moment, it wasn't Diana."

"No, it's alright." Dean said. "I could see the resemblance too, for a moment. She had parents, though, and Kylie didn't. Kylie had us and Kevin and Cas."

"Look where that got both of them." Sam scoffed. "Kevin and Kylie are dead, now, and I just called a witch by her name."

"I know, I know, it's weird." Dean agreed. "Look, this whole thing is weird, with three exclamation marks, but we just… Kind of need to find our bearings in it. I mean, look at her!" He said. "Diana shows up with freaking God, and God showed up with Kevin."

"Why did he just summon up Kevin, though?" Sam asked. "If he was giving us a chance for closure or whatever, why not Kylie as well?"

"Maybe she was already up top?" Dean offered. "Or maybe we're not the ones that need to see her for closure."

Neither of them said it, but they were both thinking of Cas. Cas had told Sam that Lucifer killed her when he was in control, and Lucifer had confirmed soon after. If anyone needed to see her, it would be Cas.

"We've got to get him." Dean stated. "Kylie would've wanted it."

"But how?"

"I'm working on it." He answered. "Maybe we could have Diana help or something. She's definitely willing to be a part of the fight."

"Yeah. And did you see what she was working on?" Sam asked. "Ways to protect people from Amara."

"Looked like science fiction to me." Dean muttered. "I have no idea how she's doing all that, but she's doing it."

"Advanced placement kids." Sam murmured in agreeance.

"Hey, how come you were never in any of those programs?" Dean joked, nudging his shoulder.

"We never stuck around at a school long enough for me to be tested." Sam reminded him. Dean just shrugged.

"So what do you want to do with her, after all this?" Dean asked.

"With who?"

"Diana."

"I dunno. Maybe she'll just stick with God."

"Look, I know that she's got the OK from on high," Dean admitted. "But I don't know how I feel with having her stay in the Bunker."

"Why?"

"I dunno. Just with everything going on," Dean shook his head. "No. Forget I said anything. She's got clearance from Chuck and Kevin. She's cool."

"Look, after we deal with Amara," Sam thought. "Then we'll kick her out. She can't pop in and out of the Bunker at will, she can only get outside of it. Or who knows?" Sam asked. "She may end up being the first Hunter Witch combo."

"Nope. Warlock cop." Dean countered. Sam laughed, nodding.

"Fine. The first female one."

"But witches, man?" Dean asked, shaking his head again. "There's something she's not telling us, I can feel it."

"Maybe she's just used to being secretive." Sam offered.

"No. I got a gut feeling on this one." Dean argued. "Something isn't quite right."

"Well, we'll figure it out after everything else." Sam promised.

On that, they could both agree.


	28. Four Guys, One Girl

Donatello woke up not long before Dean and Sam came back. He had questions, plenty of them, and I was more than happy to answer. Chuck had long since retired to his room, where I could faintly hear the sounds of folk music floating from.

Once Dean and Sam got back, though, they started answering the questions, and I made food.

Dean's phone went off for the first time maybe a minute after I started cooking. I could hear it from the kitchen. "Who is it?" I asked.

"Nobody important."

I kept cooking, the men kept talking, and Dean's phone kept going off. "Want me to make it stop?" I offered.

"No thanks!"

I showed back up with burgers and a salad for Donny not long after, the sound of Dean's phone beeping as I did.

"I got you a beer. I don't know if you drink." I told Donny, putting beers in front of all the guys.

"I do now." He said, popping off the top and chugging the whole thing. Damn.

I took my seat as Dean started talking. "Well," he let out a sigh. "I don't know... if Chuck is leaning our way." He said. They all knew about his plan to give up, by now.

"You don't know?" Donatello asked, flabbergasted.

"If we do get Lucifer for the added muscle, then...maybe he'll play ball." Dean admitted.

"That's putting a lot on an angel that only knows how to play Jailhouse Rock." I pointed out. Sam nodded in agreeance.

"I thought they hated each other." Donatello asked.

"Yeah, they do." Sam got up at this point, Dean's phone still going off. "Who is it?" I asked.

"Metatron." He grunted out tiredly, heading out the door. A minute later, he came back in with the ex-angel in question.

"Wow." Donatello sighed. "I so miss being an atheist." He admitted.

"All right, Metatron. Make it quick. Don't touch anything." Sam ordered.

"Fine." Metatron agreed. "Dean! Thanks for inviting me!" He exclaimed.

"Inviting you? You've been circling the building all night!" Dean corrected. "You sent me 200 text messages with dumbass emojis!" At this, I waved my hand at the phone so I could get a look at this. Indeed, the last several messages (and reason for the incessant pinging) was Metatron, sending Dean text messages that solely consisted of emojis, at this point. "You got three minutes." He stated.

"Oh." He turned to me. "Lovely to see you again, Diana. How are things among the Winchesters in their Fortress of Solitude?"

"It's not made of ice." I replied, handing Dean back his phone. Metatron just smirked before turning his attention on the prophet.

"Donatello! Pleasure to meet you. Metatron, scribe of God." He offered a hand, and Donatello shook it cautiously. "I was there when you were designed. I wrote your name on the inside of the angels' eyelids."

Donatello withdrew his hand, pointing at Metatron. "He's freaking me out." He told us.

"But the floating phone thing didn't?" Metatron asked in response, pointing at me.

"No, that did too." Donatello admitted. I rolled my eyes. "But she seems nicer than you."

"Okay." Dean interjected. "You said you wanted to help. Besides world-class douchery, what do you have to offer?"

"Oh, nothing." Metatron said off-handedly. "I just transcribed the angel tablet and know all the spells. And I know what makes Amara tick. And I had a relationship with the big guy for eons. Shall I keep going?"

"Shall I correct you?" I countered, glancing up at the guy.

Metatron winced, grabbing Sam's beer off the table for a drink. Sam lunged forwards quickly, taking it from him.

"Hey! That's mine!" He exclaimed, earning a glare from Metatron. Sam turned to Dean, taking a slow sip of his drink. "But as much as I hate to admit this... he kind of has a point."

"I don't know." Dean said.

Metatron just scoffed. "You need all the help you can get – even douche help. I mean, you're turning to a witch, after all."

"And since when did you jump on the God wagon?" Dean asked him. "You never used to give a damn."

"Well, I didn't," he admitted. "At one time. Now that he's gone all kamikaze, leaving us with the Darkness, I..." Metatron let out a sigh, and for a moment I saw that vulnerability in his eyes again, the same one from the bar. "I was by his side since the creation. He believed in me. If there's something I can do to help save him and his creation, then, uh, it seems like I should." He looked over at me. "Life is hard, right?" He asked me.

I nodded, and he smiled for a moment before putting on the douchebag-mask again. "So, Dean-o, whatcha got planned?" He asked.

"The plan is to rescue Lucifer from Amara." Dean explained, laying his hands on the table. "Then he teleports us out of Amara's hideout and we convince Chuck to use him to fight her."

Metatron rolled his eyes. "That's your plan? Do you even know where Amara is?"

"I've been trying, but I still can't get a solid lock on her." I admitted.

"Um," Donatello interrupted. "I think I might know where she is." He admitted. "I've been getting this vibe. Uh, it's like a ping in my cerebral cortex."

"Oh, so either Amara or a stroke." I waved a hand at him, and he rubbed his arm. "Ow! What did you do?" He asked.

"Psychic punch." I answered. "Be nice to the prophet."

"Fine." He agreed. "And how are we supposed to keep Amara busy while we're... liberating Lucifer?" Metatron asked.

Nobody answered, but instead we all cast Dean a few quiet glances. "Yeah, yeah, I know." He agreed. "Fine. But there's one problem. She can get in my head. As in, literally in my thoughts."

"I can fix that." I offered. "I think."

"How?" Sam asked. In response, I held up the simple necklace I still wore, with the coin on it.

"Psychic-proof." I answered. "Nobody can get in my head unless I take this off. Not demons, not witches, not angels, and if I do it right," I ran it through my head.

It should work.

"Not Amara, either." Metatron finished, impressed.

"Could you make one for all of us?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, but why?" I responded. "Dean's the only one that should need it for now."

"It seems like something that would be useful in the future." Sam answered evasively. He wouldn't meet my eyes, though.

Oh.

Ouch.

"It'll take a bit of time, but eventually, yeah." I agreed, looking away at my notes. "Sure."

"Great!" Dean clapped his hands together, and rubbed them for a moment. "Diana is gonna brain-game-proof my head, and we'll get working."

"In that case, Dean, follow me." I told him, getting up from my chair. I walked towards their kitchen confidently, with Dean doing as he was told quietly. "Necklace or bracelet?" I offered.

"Does it have to be jewelry?" He asked.

"It needs to be something that won't fall off your person easily and that will have near-constant skin-to-skin contact." I answered. "And it needs to be metal. I doubt you wear chain mail."

"Fair enough." Dean agreed. "I'll take a coin necklace."

"Great. Dig around in your pockets for a penny." I ordered. He did as he was told, and a good half hour later (plus him spitting in a bowl and burning a few strands of hair), he was set to go with a necklace that would hide his thoughts.

"Alright. Time to test this out." I put it on the table, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Think something, anything."

I heard a bunch of chatter in the background, different random bits of conversation, but what shone clear was his voice in my head humming the tune to Free Bird.

"Nice song choice. Lynyrd Skynyrd is always a personal favorite." I commented, removing my hand. Dean looked startled. "Now, put this necklace on, and do that again with something different." I told him.

When I placed a hand on him again, this time I got nothing.

"You're clear." I told him. "And that can't be forcibly removed by anyone. You have to be the one to do it of your own volition, so I'd say you're good to go."

"Wow. Thanks." He said. "So, whatcha think?"

"About what?"

"Look, I know that this is an awkward situation to be in," Dean said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "And I know that you're kind of the odd one out at this point, you're not used to being around Lucifer or Castiel or all of these things…"

"I'm doing my part, aren't I?" I asked. "I can't complain if the world doesn't end."

"Yeah, well, if there's anything you feel like you need to tell me or want to tell me," Dean said. "You can."

"Thanks." I said, working hard to keep my brows furrowing. "You should get back out there. Amara, Lucifer, the whole schebang?" I reminded him.

"Yeah. No problem." He said, walking away. "But, I mean it. Feel free to talk."

Once he was out of earshot, I thought for a moment. "That was… Just plain weird." I muttered.


	29. No Matter What I Do, I Can't Win

When I got back in, we planned for how we'd separate out. Dean would go to Amara, and the rest of us would go to Lucifer, following Donatello's lead. My job was to help free him, and if he was unable to beam us out of there.

So I rode in the back seat with Metatron, doing my best to hide my terror and fear of facing Lucifer.

Once we got there, though, I felt my heart drop. He still looked like Cas, after all, and all I could see for a moment was Castiel, tied up with his arms splayed out on either side, his entire body bearing the marks of beatings and lacerations and torture done by Amara.

"Oh, goody. Larry, Curly, Moe. Search and rescue?" Lucifer asked, his voice strained. Oh, wow." He cast his glance to Donatello "It's one of Dad's favorites. Your ticket finally got punched, huh? It's wacky, isn't it? One minute, you're... nobody. And then – Shazam – you're Joan of Arc. Let's, uh… Let's hope this ends better than that." He turned to me, next. "And you… I don't know who you are. Maybe a new toy for the Winchesters?" He asked, taking a glance at Sam.

"All right, can the small talk." Sam told him. "We're busting you out of here."

"Well, it seems fair since I wouldn't be here if you lunatics hadn't set me up to be grabbed by Amara." Lucifer responded.

"You're gonna help us take her down." Dean ordered. I followed Metatron to where Lucifer was being held up, examining the symbols and sigils used.

Damn, was this going to be some fun stuff to break.

"If you say no, we'll just leave you here in Abu Ghraib." Sam offered.

"You take the left, I'll take the right." Metatron offered. I nodded, and he moved over to the right side so we could get to work. I heard him begin to chant quietly as I raised my hands, focusing on the magic before me.

Lucifer let out a small chuckle as we worked, one that turned in to a harsh and terrible cough. "Say no?" He asked. "You see what she's done to me?" I focused on the task before me, not that for a moment it sounded like Castiel instead of the Devil. "Do I look like a fan?!"

Metatron and I worked quickly side-by-side. I caught bits and pieces of what he was saying, but nothing that I really focused on. I worked on my own parts, focusing on removing the bindings. There were so many, I could almost see them.

"Libertas a captivitate," I muttered, feeling the magic flow from me. This was working, it was working correctly, I knew it was. "Quod est vinculum tollit eum."

"Did you grab these two from the steno pool?" I heard him mutter. Metatron kept chanting.

"You understand you'll be working with your father." Sam stated. "Is that gonna be a problem?"

"Et perdam omnia maledicta." I said, feeling a few disappear. I kept going as Lucifer let out a groan.

"That's family. This is bigger." He agreed.

"So, you'll table all the old stuff?" Sam continued.

"What happens in Heaven stays in Heaven."

I lost focus for a moment, and swore briefly before continuing.

"Kahtoh, mahday, tayroh!" I heard him shout, matching pace with my own work.

"Metatron, Diana, are we getting any closer?" Sam asked us. "Dean can't stall forever."

"We're narrowing it down." Metatron answered for me.

"Nos sumus in tenebris lumen," I gripped Metatron's arm for a second, placing my other hand flat against the inscriptions. Metatron matched as I did, repeating my words. "Quod ardet vinculum ad nihilum."

Another set fizzled away to nothing, on both sides. I could see Lucifer sag slightly, still bound, but we were much closer. I let go of Metatron, and we kept working.

"Liberate angelus, hoc daemon, hoc homine," I reached down in to my boots, pulling out a simple silver blade to cut my hand with. I cut the palm of my hand that had been on the runes, and placed it back on the bindings afterwards. "Haec mutatio creaturae, indigno libertatemque, sed dignum redemptio."

I felt it, felt that we were almost done. Metatron held out a hand towards me, and I gave him the knife. He sliced his own palm, placing it like a mirror on the other side of Lucifer's bindings.

I knew what we were supposed to say.

I don't know how I knew, but I could feel it and I knew.

"Sahboh, taylah!" We both shouted, and I could almost see the rest of the bindings fall away from Lucifer.

"Oh, oh!" Castiel fell to a small lump on the ground, his limbs weak and limp. "Yes." He breathed out.

We all ran to him quickly, with Sam closest to kneel beside him.

"Hey, Lucifer, zap us out of here – quick!" He demanded.

That was when I felt it.

I felt something wrong. Something terribly wrong, and absolutely awfully angry.

"Oh, no can do." Lucifer said.

"Guys, something is wrong." I said. "Dean's been made."

"What do you mean you can't do it?" Sam asked.

"Temporarily grounded. Equipment malfunction." Lucifer breathed out, wincing in pain.

"Then, Diana, get us out of here." Sam said, turning to me. I shook my head.

"I can't. Dean's been made, and Amara…"

"Guys, I'm," Donatello interrupted, sounding frantic. "I'm feeling her! She's coming!"

"She's blocking me, too." I told Sam. "If I had time, I could get us out, but only one, maybe two at once."

"All right." Sam thought for a moment before throwing one of Lucifer's arms over his shoulder. "We're out of here. Come on guys, to the car. Now."

Lucifer let out groans of pain as Donatello moved to take his other arm.

Metatron held his ground, as did I beside him.

"Metatron, Diana, come on!" Sam shouted, stopping to look back at us.

"It's okay, Sam." Metatron said, his voice calm. "You go."

"What?!" He looked at us like we were insane. "Come on!"

"We got this, Sam." I told him. "Protect the prophet. Go."

"You too, Diana." Metatron ordered. "You deserve a chance at a normal life, a life with someone you care about." He shot a side glance to Lucifer, one that I hoped Sam missed.

"You need help." I reminded him. "You're human. You won't make it without my help."

"I'm serious, Kylie." He said my real name much quieter, in a whisper only I could hear. "I got this. Tell God…" Chuck let out a sigh. "Tell him I hope that I stopped being a disappointment in his eyes."

I nodded, and reached in to my pocket real quick for something important.

The vial of his grace, half-used.

I opened it and placed my hand over the container quickly. "Corroboro." I whispered, feeling it soak in to my hand.

I placed my hand on Metatron's chest, focusing hard. "Potestem facio."

Metatron recoiled away from my hand, as though I'd punched him hard. "That should give you an extra boost. You're not an angel, still," I looked at him apologetically. "But hopefully that will be enough boost to give you a chance."

"Thank you." He said, and I could see forged hope in his eyes.

We both knew it wouldn't be enough, but we both also had to hope that it would at least be something.

I ran after the Impala, sprinting hard to catch up and slam myself in to the back seat as fast as I could. "Where's Metatron?" Sam asked. If he was surprised at my being in the car, he didn't show it.

"He…"

I felt it, then.

I felt Amara's power surge, just for a moment, as she annihilated Metatron.

"He's dead." I stated simply. "He told me to run."

Sam just nodded grimly, and slammed his foot on the gas harder. Donatello looked out and around in fear. "Do you think you can get all of us, and the car, back to the Bunker safely?" Sam asked.

"I could try." I answered. "We need to get away from Amara first, though. I need to be far enough from her power so that she stops blocking me."

"Alright. Tell me when." Sam responded.

Suddenly Amara appeared in front of us, and Sam slammed the brakes. "FUCK!" I screamed, my head slamming hard against the passenger seat. Lucifer groaned in pain, his body halfway out the seat.

I watched Sam flip the car in to reverse, and start putting the pedal to the metal again. Smoke rose up from around the car, but we didn't move.

"Diana!" Sam shouted.

"I'm trying!" I focused hard on us, trying to fight off Amara to get us out.

"You really aren't worth sparing." Amara stated, raising her hands to be level with us. "None of you."

As the tire squealed, I felt an immense surge of power. I knew it was from Amara.

I knew we were doomed.

I closed my eyes and clenched my hand in a fist, the one with the wedding ring. I held it up to my mouth, and whispered my last words.

"I love you."

I hoped that somehow Castiel would know and understand that.

Suddenly there was a loud clang, like metal landing hard on a floor. "WHAT… HAPPENED?!" Donatello shouted, spacing out the words in his terror.

I opened my eyes as Sam exited the car, coughing and waving away smoke. "Diana, was that you?" He asked. I shook my head, unclenching my fist to put my hand down.

The rest of us got out of the car, myself and Sam supporting Lucifer's weight this time. When I helped him hoist Lucifer, my arm brushed past his.

I didn't mean to, I swear I didn't, but the excess power I'd just been exposed to had put me in hyperdrive.

 _"So what do you want to do with her, after all this?" Dean asked._

 _"With who?"_

 _"Diana."_

 _"I dunno. Maybe she'll just stick with God."_

 _"Look, I know that she's got the OK from on high," Dean admitted. "But I don't know how I feel with having her stay in the Bunker."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"I dunno. Just with everything going on," Dean shook his head. "No. Forget I said anything. She's got clearance from Chuck and Kevin. She's cool."_

 _"Look, after we deal with Amara," Sam thought. "Then we'll kick her out. She can't pop in and out of the Bunker at will, she can only get outside of it. Or who knows?" Sam asked. "She may end up being the first Hunter Witch combo."_

 _"Nope. Warlock cop." Dean countered. Sam laughed, nodding._

 _"Fine. The first female one."_

 _"But witches, man?" Dean asked, shaking his head again. "There's something she's not telling us, I can feel it."_

 _"Maybe she's just used to being secretive." Sam offered._

 _"No. I got a gut feeling on this one." Dean argued. "Something isn't quite right."_

 _"Well, we'll figure it out after everything else." Sam promised._

I forced myself out of Sam's head, feeling myself fill with dread. They didn't want me here. They wanted me gone.

They only wanted my around to use as a weapon.

As we ascended the staircase, Donatello asked the obvious question. "Where are we?"

When we walked in to the B.A.M.T. room, Sam let out a short laugh. "Home." He answered.

I wished I could agree.

Chuck let out a sigh as he walked in to the room. "Occasionally, I do answer a prayer." He stated, opening a bottle of beer. When his gaze fell on Lucifer, he let out a sigh. "You've changed."

Lucifer moved away from us, lurching forwards to support himself on a nearby beam. "You've changed." He replied.

"Well, still," Chuck shrugged. "I'm really pretty much the same."

He waved a hand over at Lucifer, and in an instant he was healed.

The glare in his eyes never left, though.


	30. Nobody Is Happy

I sat at the table, working at new ways to battle Amara. Now that I'd been in the presence of Amara's power, felt it firsthand, and even worked to take down her work, I had a better idea of what I'd be doing and what I'd need to do.

Chuck sat at the table across from me, reading the news as he drank a cup of coffee.

I had a mug of hot tea beside me as well, but I hadn't even touched it yet. I'd been up for almost fourteen hours, now, and each time my mug got cool I just, well… I heated it back up.

Lucifer waltzed in to the room, boredly flicking through a book. He took a glance up at Chuck, looking for all the world like a bored and unamused teenager.

"So where were you?" He asked, flicking through another page.

"That's a… long story." Chuck answered vaguely.

"Does it involve the new girl?" He asked, motioning to me.

"How do you feel?" Chuck ignored his question. "I healed you."

"Mmmmm. Yeah." Lucifer nodded, cocking his head to the side as he pursed his lips. "Didn't ask you to."

"Son, be reasonable." Chuck implored.

"One cosmic Band-Aid on my knee and what, you think we're, we're even now?" Lucifer plunked on to a small step, glaring up at Chuck. "Is it time for us to go play catch in the yard?" The door to the outside opened, and I sensed it was Sam and Dean. At the lack of an answer, Lucifer shook his head before returning to the book. "Screw you." He declared.

"Guys?" Dean called down. He and Sam walked down

"Hey, how's it goin' in here?" Sam asked. I shook my head, not able to look the brothers in the eyes. Chuck and Lucifer didn't respond either, with Chuck instead continuing his conversation.

"Listen, I know I've been gone for a while," Chuck stated slowly as Sam and Dean set their bags down on the other end of the table. "I've missed a few… million birthdays," he was about to continue, I could tell, but Lucifer cut him off.

"Yeah, and the second your apes send a distress flare, boom. Daddy's home." Lucifer finished.

"That's not what happened." Chuck argued.

"Hey, these apes and a witch saved your ass." Dean added. I fought back a wince.

I could feel power surging, though, directly from Lucifer. He raised his hands, glaring down the brothers as he snapped his fingers.

Dean and Sam winced, momentarily terrified, but nothing happened.

There had been a second power surge, a more powerful one that I could still feel lingering around.

Chuck shook his head. "He can't hurt you."

"Oh, so you're controlling me now?!" Lucifer stated, furious.

"It's just a safeguard." Chuck answered. Lucifer stared down at his father for a while, absolute fury seething from his every fiber.

"Hey guys?" Sam interrupted. "Uh, Chuck? Lucifer… uh, Dean… Diana," he said my name hurriedly. "Think we can try and focus here? Y'know, end of the world, common enemy, all that?"

Lucifer's response was to slam his book shut, standing up from his spot. "Enemy of my enemy is my friend." He replied, walking to stand right in front of Chuck. "Team Amara. Go Amara."

Chuck looked hurt. "You don't mean that." He said. Lucifer just watched for a moment, as if waiting.

"You're really not gonna say it." He stated. Lucifer and Chuck regarded one another for a while, as if in a staring contest. Chuck blinked first, but didn't look away.

"He's not gonna say what?" Sam asked.

"Screw you." Lucifer spat out at Chuck before turning to Sam and Dean. "Screw all of you."

Lucifer stormed out, pushing his way between Sam and Dean. A few minutes later, Chuck rose with a small huff. "Kids, huh?" He asked, looking at the three of us. Then he walked away, presumably back to his own room.

"So, how's it going, Diana?" Dean asked. "Any word on a plan against Amara?"

"I've been re-vamping some calculations and ideas," I answered, my voice stale. "But I'm still not 100% certain as to how many of them might actually work. At this point, it actually might just be easier to manufacture a shit ton of psychic-proof jewelry than it would be to actually throw her back in her cage."

"Speaking of which, any chance I could get one of those at some point?" Sam asked.

I pretended that that didn't hurt.

"Yeah, once I've finished up here no problem." They don't trust me.

They want me gone.

Maybe I should leave; leave them with Lucifer and Chuck, leave them to figure out something to stop Amara.

Why stay if I'm stuck with two brothers that I considered family but don't trust me because I'm a witch, the literal Devil possessing my fiancé that gave him permission to do so, and a God that honestly seems to be more concerned with self-sacrifice and doing the family dance with his own scorned son versus figuring out what the hell to do about his sister?

"Actually, I think I'm gonna head out for a little bit, get some fresh air." I told them, standing as I gathered my notes to a semi-neat pile. "I'll be back in a few hours, don't wait up."

"Alright." Dean agreed. "We'll leave the door open for you."

I wasn't certain I could believe him on that, but I went outside anyways. After all, the only one in that Bunker that could read my notes was Chuck, and he was busy doing family things.

Once I was outside, I disappeared to somewhere I hadn't been in a while. I stood outside the door of the apartment, the one Castiel and I had shared. For just a moment, I shed the disguise of Diana. No magic, nothing disguising my appearance or the ring. Just…

Just me.

Just Kylie.

I was almost terrified. The second I shed the disguise, I put it back up just as quickly. What if I was seen? What if someone knew?

What if they wanted me gone as well?

I shook my head, steeling my nerves. I could go in there, no problem. Lucifer is, essentially, grounded at the Bunker, and Sam and Dean would have no reason whatsoever to come here. I could walk in to the apartment, no problem.

On habit, I fished around in my pocket to find a key I didn't have.

I'd left it in the Bunker the day Lucifer beamed me out, and instead of a key my fingers wound themselves around a pair of lockpicks.

I picked the lock quickly and quietly, pausing only when I heard the familiar click of the door unlocking.

When I walked in, though, a whole new reality hit me – one that I hadn't even considered happening.

How long had we been away from the apartment? A few months?

Obviously rent hadn't been paid since then, and the landlord had re-sold the place.

It all looked… Different, now. Someone had definitely redecorated, switching out the simple colors and homeliness of the place to a sleek, more efficient look. Blacks and whites and reds and rounded furniture everywhere, with two bean bag chairs on either side of a small couch.

The bookshelf no longer held the books from the Bunker. I'd taken them back beforehand, and the ones I'd brought back… They were gone.

The little bank was gone.

The pictures were gone.

The flowers were gone.

The corkboard with notes and information was gone.

All of it was gone.

I just stood there, for a long time, staring at the strange new apartment. I wondered who lived here. There were no photos of anyone, not a lot of personal things in general. Some random funky pieces of art, a few miscellaneous bottles of various drinks lining the top of a shelf, and they'd put in a flat screen TV.

But other than that…

Nothing to indicate who lived there, much less who used to.

All I knew was that whoever lived here now… They would never worry about salting the doors and windows. They would never know about the doormat with the Devil's Trap draw on the underside, nor have to have one themselves. They would never keep a large water bottle with holy water in the fridge, or a spare cache of emergency equipment under their bed.

They would never do any of these things, because they weren't Hunters. They weren't witches. They weren't fallen angels or runaway demons or creatures hiding from Hunters.

These people were people, living ordinary lives in the first apartment I'd ever called home, the first place I'd ever lived with a boyfriend as a just us place.

The only place I'd ever been proposed to.

I don't know exactly how long I stood there, but it was long enough for keys to jingle in the door behind me. I turned invisible, quickly, and stepped out to the side so they wouldn't run in to me on accident.

"Alright, no peeking, though." I heard a guy say. When the door opened, there were two men. They were both dressed nicely, with one standing behind the other, shielding his eyes with his hands. When he moved them away, the second man gasped. "This is a beautiful apartment, Derek!"

"Thank you." Derek replied, smiling as the first man moved forwards in to the space.

"Is this the same apartment that used to have all that weird shit in it?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty certain the previous tenants were freaks." Derek answered, closing the door behind him. "But, that's not why I brought you here."

"What do you mean?" The second guy asked.

When he turned around, Derek was on one knee, holding a ring out. "Josh, I love you." He said. "I know you're having financial difficulties and problems with where you live, and I've been wanting to do this for a while now. So please, move in with me here and marry me."

"Derek, yes!" Josh shouted, falling in to Derek's arms.

That was when I beamed out of there, back to the cabin in Utah. I sat down in the nearest chair and… And just cried.

I didn't know what I was crying for, there were too many things, but I just let it all out.

"My, my, what a surprise." A gravelly voice said. I looked up, ready to push aside whoever it was that had walked in here, until I recognized the speaker.

"Crowley." I greeted him. I didn't say his name like a curse, though, or a hateful thing, but more as just…

Like an acquaintance.

"Care for a drink?" He offered, procuring a very nicely sized bottle of scotch. "You look like you could use one."

I waved a hand, and two glasses from the little kitchenette cabinet floated over to the table. "Fill it up." I requested, fighting back a wince at the crack in my voice.

"Rough time at the Bunker?" He asked, walking towards the table. He took a seat beside me, and poured both glasses to the brim. We both downed ours in a few gulps, and Crowley poured two more glasses. "Damn." He commented.

"Rough time in Hell?" I asked him. He just take a long drink of his own glass. "I'm guessing the takeover didn't go so well."

"They called it 'King Crowley's Bad Dinner Theatre,'" he responded, swirling his drink. "Said that they wanted to 'watch the monkey dance, one last time.'"

"So what're you going to do now?"

"The world is ending." He replied. "I am a disgrace to my own kind. So I'm going to do what there is left to do." He finished off his glass, pouring a third. "I'm going to enjoy a drink, take a seat, and watch the Winchesters save us or damn us."

"I'll drink to that." I said, raising my glass. He clinked his against mine, and I finished off my drink while he took a slow sip.

"So what's got you worked up?" Crowley asked.

"A lot of things."

"It's the end of the world, Kylie." He responded. "We've got time."

"Don't call me that."

"What, your name?" He asked. I nodded. "Why?"

"Because there's nothing left." I stated. "I went by the apartment today."

"Oh?"

"A very nice gay couple got engaged tonight in it." I finished, watching Crowley pour me a third. I swirled it around for a moment, just thinking. "And you were right, Dean and Sam want me out of the Bunker as soon as possible. And every time I look at Lucifer I wish it was Cas and can't help but hear Castiel's voice, even though I know it's not him speaking."

"Sounds like things are rough." Crowley agreed.

"I could say the same thing for your end."

"None of this is good." I shook my head, and Crowley took a long drink from his class. "End of the world… I think this is worse than dying." I decided.

Crowley sputtered, coughing up his scotch. "Damn, this is truly awful." He stated.

"What, the scotch?" I asked, finishing off mine. "Tastes good to me."

"I mean you." He answered. "I was the one that killed you, and you're saying that this is worse." He shook his head. "From the bottom of my nonexistent heart, I am deeply sorry."

"Thanks for the sentiment, but why bother?" I asked. "After all, like you said, the world is ending and we either put all our faith in whatever plan Sam and Dean create, or we watch Amara demolish us all."

"To our imminent demise, then." Crowley stated, raising his glass once more. "Either Amara gets us, or we live and die by what we have left to handle."

I clinked my glass against his once more, and we both finished them off.

I sat with Crowley and drank until the bottle was empty. From there, we played one last game of chess. Why not? End of the world, after all. Crowley won, but this time because I let him. The guy looked like he needed a win, after all.

"Well, I'd say it's been a pleasure," Crowley stated, standing on slightly shaky legs. "But I think we can both agree that this relationship functions best if we simply remain coworkers."

"Enjoy the end of the world." I responded, packing my voice with as much false cheer as possible. Crowley disappeared a minute later.

I sat for maybe five minutes longer before deciding to appear in front of the Bunker.

Dean stood outside the door, leaning up against it calmly. "Hey." I said, my voice betraying nothing as to what I'd been up to.

"You've been crying." He stated. I shrugged.

"I think I've been keeping it together pretty well." I responded. "You really can't blame me for wanting to have one breakdown before the end of the world, and not around a Bunker full of guys."

"Anything you feel inclined to tell us?" He asked.

"Scotch is good." I answered, keeping my voice flippant. Dean just let out a sigh.

"Come on in." He said, motioning to the door. "We think we've got an idea for a plan."

"A plan to defend?" I asked.

"No." Dean answered. "I mean one to win."

"Against Amara?" Dean nodded.

"Alright. Sounds good." I said, walking past him. "Tell me about it."

Dean placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, stopping me from fully walking in. "I know you're hiding something." He stated plainly. "And I want to make sure that it won't interfere with this plan."

"Everybody hides things." I replied. "The only difference is that I know what you're trying to hide, and you're still guessing at mine."

"Really? What am I trying to hide, then?" Dean asked. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was me at the end of my rope, but I was feeling ballsy.

"That everybody else you've had help you throughout your life has wound up dead," I told him, and watched as his face fell. "And yet you wouldn't mind if I ended up that way, because I'm just a witch after all, right? And witches can't be trusted, no matter what they've done to prove it." Before he could ask what I meant, I cut him off. "I'll be gone when this is finished, if I don't die first. You'll never have to see me again."

I finished walking in to the Bunker, my head held high as I did. I was done being quiet, being a secondary character to all of their grand stories.

I had nothing left to lose, now. No apartment. No home. No Cas.

I looked down at the ring on my finger, one that I still wore.

I probably had no marriage after this, either. Not after they all learn who Diana really is.

I had nothing left.


	31. Boss Battle

_"We assemble our band of brothers, hit Amara with everything we've got." Sam explained. "Then when she's weak…" He gestured to Chuck._

 _"I finish her off."_

 _"So, a page from the original playbook. This time with witches," Sam motioned to me. "And demons subbing for archangels."_

 _"Exactly." Lucifer agreed._

That had been the plan I'd been told.

And when Amara had killed Donatello, I had felt it. I could feel her power, now. I couldn't say where it was, but I could tell when she used it.

It was a sad loss, but we had to keep moving forwards anyways.

So I stood, in the middle of an abandoned power plant, with Rowena, Crowley, and Lucifer all arguing in a circle.

"I don't hold grudges." Crowley told Lucifer. "Besides, that dog collar was a lovely touch, really made my eyes pop. Almost wore it here today."

"Oh, I'm glad you're such a good sport." He responded, turning to Rowena. "Hey, Red. Looking gorgeous as ever. Hey, I think a little apology is in order."

"You think you're the first man to try and kill me?" Rowena responded before turning to me. "Learn this now, Diana. You can never trust a man." Crowley just rolled his eyes, gaining Rowena's attention. "Hello, Fergus."

"Mother." He greeted in turn. "Diana. Always a pleasure to see you again."

"Likewise." I nodded towards him, getting a sad cough/laugh from Lucifer.

There was a blaze of light, then, from off to the left. We all turned to see Chuck appear from it.

"Hello, my children." He greeted us. I smirked at Crowley's stunned face, and quickly wiped it away when I saw Lucifer doing the same.

"Him?" Crowley asked, pointing as he looked over at me. "You didn't think to tell me that part?"

"Rowena. Crowley." Chuck greeted the two. "It's good to finally meet you in person. You both did an excellent job in training Diana to help us today."

Rowena stood there for a moment, shell-shocked, before giving a small curtsy. "Sorry about, well, everything I've ever done in my life. Really, you… you can't have been a fan." She admitted.

"Oh, yeah, I've been quietly rooting against you both for some time now." Chuck agreed blatantly. I fought back the urge to laugh. "Although, I can't deny you're one of my guilty pleasures." He told the elder witch.

"Oh, God." Rowena said, letting out a small giggle. Crowley proceeded to roll his eyes a second time.

"Oh, God." He scoffed. Dean and Sam walked up behind us, and stood even with us.

"All right, no flirting." Dean stated, looking pointedly at each of us in turn. "And no fighting."

"Yeah, and no deals." Sam added. "No talks about who is owed what if we survive this."

"Nobody likes each other." And the award for the biggest understatement of the century goes to… Dean Winchester. "It doesn't matter."

"We only have the fight ahead." Sam reminded us.

Crowley leaned over to me quietly. "We still have our no-kill agreement, right?" He whispered.

"I'm game if you are." I agreed. Dean glared at us, earning a sarcastic smile from the demon.

"Amara's looking for me." Chuck said, his voice demanding our attention. "But I'm warded against her, for now. The second I drop the warding, she'll show. She'll be expecting a fight, and we'll give it to her. Shock and awe." He nodded, confident in his own words. "Shock, and awe. You have your troops in position?"

Rowena raised her hand delicately.

"Yes, Rowena?"

"Fabulous plan, God," she started. "But doesn't this strategy strike anyone as a wee bit… un-strategic?" She asked. "Shouldn't we at least try to catch her off guard?"

"Is that sequence set in stone?" Crowley asked next. "Demon, angel, witch power? Seems to me that the first response should come from the most disposable force." He cast a glance at Rowena, and I elbowed him.

"Right!" Lucifer agreed, nodding as he crossed his arms. "Good argument, Doggie. Demons first, it is." He proclaimed.

By Chuck, they sounded like first graders!

"The weakest should go first." Crowley said, his voice firm and a forced neutral. "Naturally, that means the witches." I whirled on him, giving him a pointed glare. "No offense, of course." He added.

"Enough." Sam stated, halting our arguments.

"After that, it's Lucifer's turn." Chuck finished. "Physical attack. One-on-one."

"What about Cas?" Dean interjected.

I couldn't help but worry about that too. I twisted the ring on my finger, glancing over at Crowley for a moment as Lucifer turned to speak to Dean.

"Oh, don't worry." Lucifer assured him, his voice never really losing that condescending edge. "Your pet's safety is my highest concern." Dean glared, earning an eye-roll from the angel. "Trust me, he's on board."

Of course he is.

When is he not?

"Once she's been weakened, I will take the Mark back from Amara and use it to seal her away. You ready?" Chuck asked Sam.

"Yeah." He agreed.

We were all unsure and surprised at this. None of us knew about a secret Sam part.

"Wait, what?" Dean asked.

That's when Sam made the big reveal. Someone had to take the Mark, and that was going to be Sam.

As Lucifer, Crowley, and Amara bickered to one side, with Dean and Sam doing the same on the other, I approached Chuck.

"What if I took the Mark?" I offered quietly. "I've never had it before. I'm a witch, and I'm powerful. I could probably hold my own against it."

Chuck shook his head. "You can't."

"Why? The witchcraft?"

"No." He answered. "Well, partially. If I put the mark on you, you'd be a much more powerful demon than Dean or Sam or Crowley or even Cain when it eventually turned you, but that's not the entire reason."

"Then what is?" I asked. Chuck just jutted his chin towards Lucifer, for a moment. "What, Lucifer?" I asked. "I could still stop him if he starts acting up, even if I had the mark."

"I'm not talking about Lucifer." Chuck said quietly.

Oh.

"Cas is still in there." Chuck reminded me. "You could still have a future with him."

Behind me, I heard Lucifer arguing with Crowley. "I'm just saying, angels can hurt her. It's worked before."

"If you call giving Amara a mild case of the pukes working." Crowley retorted.

"We're trying to disorientate her as much as hurt her. You underestimate witchcraft, Fergus, always have." Rowena reminded him.

"Says the witch to the demon that trained one of the most powerful witches in the world." Crowley stated. "Hell, I bet she could even give you a run for your money." Rowena just scoffed as Crowley continued. "If anything, she's inoculated against the angels. Full-scale demon attack. That's our X-factor."

Lucifer let out a mocking laugh, and I turned my attention back to Lucifer.

"So is Lucifer." I reminded God. "And Castiel isn't booting him out anytime soon, isn't he?"

"I could." He offered. I stared up at him, shocked. "Lucifer and Castiel are both my sons. If you wanted, I could bring back Castiel for you, put Lucifer in a different vessel, or maybe even back in the cage."

"You could do that to your own son?" I asked. "Sam said you guys worked out your difficulties, that Lucifer got his big apology that he wanted. How could you go back and lock him up again?"

"We both know that he would go back to destroying humanity in a heartbeat the second I leave." He answered. "And you know that I don't intend on staying after Amara is dealt with." That hadn't been hard to figure out.

"Thank you," I said. "But… Lucifer had one thing right, as do you. Controlling people…" I shook my head. "That's not a part of the free will you gave us. You can't force Castiel in to that decision."

"You're a smart woman." Chuck commented.

"If I stay alive, put the Mark on me, not Sam." I requested one last time. "Please."

"Why would you care?" He asked. "They want you out of the Bunker."

"I know." I clenched my teeth. "That's why you should. They already don't like me. It'll tear Dean apart to have to lock up his own brother, but for them to lock up a witch they don't even trust?" I asked, shaking my head. "It'll be the easiest thing in the world for them."

"And what if Castiel finds out?" Chuck asked. "What then?"

"Lucifer or Castiel will help lock me up, then." I answered. "It'll be their only choice."

I felt Amara's consciousness leave her body for a few minutes, then return. Chuck caught her eye, and nodded at her. "Showtime." He told me.

I followed Rowena outside a side door, cloaking myself in invisibility. Once we were outside, it didn't take long for Amara to appear.

"He's here." She stated. I could feel the power radiating from her.

"Yes. Right inside." Rowena answered, taking a step forwards. "Our deal holds? Safe passage back in time? I went out on a limb for you!" She threw her hands in the air. "I betrayed God, of all people!"

"You didn't betray God." Amara replied, and I felt my stomach drop. "You betrayed me." She waved a hand in my direction, and every spell I had on was gone. My psychic-proof necklace disintegrated, my invisibility fell off of me…

I wasn't disguised anymore. I was… Me.

Rowena stared at me in utter disbelief as Amara spoke to me. "Hello, other witch." She said. "You're the one that helped the little scribe free Lucifer, aren't you? And afterwards you tried to escape my power." She smiled. "It was a decent effort, I'll give you that, but not nearly close to enough. No matter." She turned back to Rowena, next. "I knew this was a trap the moment you called. I didn't care. All I've ever wanted is a one-on-one with my brother. And you've just given it to me. The question is how am I going to repay you?"

"Attenuare!" I shouted, hurling my hands out. It felt like lightning, almost, firing off from my hands and at the Darkness.

She turned towards me, scoffing. "That tickled." She informed me. "Do you really think the power of one witch can hurt me?"

"But she's not just one witch." Rowena replied, regaining her senses. "And we're not alone, either."

I could hear a drumbeat in the back of my mind, from the rest of the witches back with Rowena's friend Clea. _Attenuare. Attenuare._

Attenuate. Reduce in force, effect, or value of.

Reduce Amara's power.

Weaken her.

" ** _ATTENUARE_** **!** " I screamed, feeling Rowena raise her voice with me. Her power joined with mine, amplified by the power of four more witches back with Clea, all pushing their energies out through us. Amara took a step back for just a moment, though, before she shook her head.

"Enough." Amara told us, flicking her hands back out at us. I felt myself being electrocuted from the inside out, and the backlash from it.

The backlash that went through me like an energy conductor, firing off at the other witches Rowena had known.

I fell back hard, my head slamming against the concrete, but I was awake. I couldn't say the same for Rowena, though. She had hit hard, much harder than me, and was knocked unconscious. I raised a hand weakly towards her, trying to sense a heartbeat.

Yeah, she was alive. She was just unconscious.

I focused on the angel energy in me, doing my best to help me get myself back up. I felt drained and pained and sore and GOD something was going to hurt tomorrow.

"Points for trying." Amara muttered towards us.

I watched as the dark clouds began to roll overhead, and felt the electricity crackling in them. Amara just chuckled, opening her arms wide with a challenging scream. The hairs on the back of my neck raised as a bolt of white energy slams down on top of her. I could feel the ground shake as I rose to my knees, keeping one hand on the ground to steady myself while I pointed the other out at Amara.

I focused on the angelic energy within me, and let out a scream of my own as I forced it all out towards the Darkness.

My vision went blurry, fuzzing and darkening around the edges, and I could barely see the twisting dark smoke that filled in the space.

Demons, all attacking and surrounding Amara. She bat her hands at them, trying to claw and fight the smoke and light that was attacking her.

Angels and demons and a witch, all working in tandem at the same time.

Who would've thought?

I watched as the demons lifted Amara in to the air, continuing their assault. "No! Get back! No!" She shouted.

When the red smoke joined them, I knew Crowley had come out as well.

Amara was slammed in to a car, absolutely wrecking and destroying it. I fell back to the ground at that point, too, my energy spent.

I could hear Amara ignoring me, limping with purpose in to the building. I did my best to get up and follow, fighting the urge to vomit or pass out as my vision continued to blur.

I slumped against a nearby pipe as Chuck spoke to Amara. She was on her knees, defeated and waiting for death. Lucifer stood nearby, spear at the ready.

I heard Amara start to shout, say the word "no," when I felt my arm light up in pain. I let out a cry of pain, and looked down to see the Mark being burned on to my arm.

" _Kylie_?" Dean and Sam said from somewhere, both of them stunned. I fell back to my knees, grasping my arm as I was branded.

"I'm so sorry." Chuck said, probably to Amara. The Mark was almost done. We had won.

We did it.

I fell to the ground, faintly hearing screams and cries as I finally gave in, unable to stay awake any longer.

But I could've sworn I saw Billie before I did, watching it all happen with pain and sorrow in her eyes.


	32. I Broke

"Kylie." A voice was saying my name. Male. Someone was shaking me, trying to get me to wake up. "Kylie, please get up. Please wake up."

"Five more minutes." I requested, my brain foggy. Fuck, I probably had a presentation today, but by God I just wanted a little bit more sleep. What's the worst that could happen.

"She's alive!" The male shouted. Ouch. That hurt my head, like a thousand angry hedgehogs were rolling around in my brain.

Actually, everything hurt. It felt as though I'd been electrocuted from the inside out.

Then again, hadn't I?

I opened my eyes with a start, images flurrying through my mind. Amara. Rowena. Demons smoke and angel fire. The Darkness, on her knees in submission.

The Mark of Cain, being burned on to my arm. I had the Mark, now. Amara was gone. We'd won.

We'd won, right?

I sat up, finally seeing who was right in front of me.

Lucifer.

Lucifer had been trying to wake me up.

I pushed myself away, quickly, trying to put distance between myself and the Devil. "No, no, Kylie!" He moved towards me, placing his hands on my shoulders as he kneeled in front of me. "It's me. It's Cas."

"Castiel?" I asked, staring up at him. He nodded, and I could see it.

It was his nod, his face, his movements and words and voice and personality and him.

It was Cas.

"Lucifer," I started to ask, but Cas cut me off.

"Amara expelled him from me."

"Amara was going back in the cage." I said, shaking my head. "The Mark, it was being put on my arm," I looked down at where the branding had been.

It was gone, as though it had never existed.

I looked back up at Castiel, suddenly very terrified as he hung his head. "We failed." He explained.

We failed.

It had all been for nothing.

"Is Chuck OK?" I asked, trying to stand. Something felt wrong, felt off. Something bad had happened, I could feel it.

When I tried to stand, I fell back to the ground, dry heaving and GOD everything hurt so much.

"Chuck is dying." A firm voice said. Dean's. "And somehow, I feel like I'm looking at a ghost right now."

"Dean." I said his name as I rose again, this time much more carefully. Cas placed a gently hand on my arm, helping to steady me as I leaned heavily against the pipe.

"Hi Kylie." He said, a calm anger in his voice. "Or I guess Diana, now. Which would you prefer?"

"I can explain." I started, finally standing semi-normally.

"Explain what?" He asked. "How you put all of us through the worst form of guilt-ridden hell we've ever felt? First Kevin in the Bunker, then you. You don't think that that might've killed us?"

"Dean," Cas started, but Dean shook his head.

"No. No, I'm not going to be calm about this. The end is now an unstoppable version of friggin nigh, and I'm going to get some damn answers."

A door clanged somewhere behind Dean, and he swiveled fast, his gun out of his pocket in an instant.

Rowena walked in, Crowley directly behind her.

"So that was a gun in your pocket." She commented, looking around at all of us. "Kylie. What a pleasure to see you again. I knew you had talent."

I didn't respond, but I could feel her trying to root around in my head now that the necklace was gone.

"Mother, stop." Crowley ordered, seeing the expression on my face. "This has been an utter dog's breakfast. Don't you think that maybe you could give the poor girl a second before you try to root out all her secrets?"

"I didn't know dogs had breakfast." Castiel commented.

"Cas is back." Dean said gruffly, holstering his gun. "Actually, for a good recap, Cas is back, Chuck is currently dying, and Kylie here is actually going to be questioned by all of us in a little bit." Then he stopped, whirling back around to Crowley. "Wait. You're not surprised." He stated. "You KNEW?!"

"Yes." Crowley answered. Dean advanced on him, full of rage, but I held out a tired hand and forced him to stop.

"Before we all start tearing each other to bits," Rowena commented. "Has anybody bothered to look outside?"

We didn't say another word to each other, just followed Rowena out the door to see what our failure had caused. Sirens wailed off in the distance somewhere, the noise making my head hurt more.

"Are you alright?" Castiel asked. I shook my head. God was dying. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

Then I looked up, forcing myself to stare at the sun for a moment, and I could see the proof.

"What is it?" Dean asked, all of now looking at the sky.

"It looks like the sun is," he couldn't finish he sentence, but I could.

"It's dying." I said, glancing over at Chuck. He wasn't looking up, just down.

He knew.

"Why would Amara do that?" Sam asked.

"The sun is the source of all life on earth." Castiel explained. "Without it, everything just... just wastes away."

"Let's get the hell out of here." Dean said. Chuck glanced over at me.

"A little help?" He requested. I nodded, grabbing hold of Crowley with my other hand as Chuck snapped his fingers.

With Chuck's help, I could push through everything that was warding me against teleporting in to the Bunker, and we stood in the middle of the Bunker's war room.

"You." Crowley commented, looking from me to Chuck.

"Still got a few tricks up my sleeve." Chuck replied with a smile, straightening his back a little. "I'm not dead y..." When he tried to pull away from Sam, I could see all the strength leave him as he collapsed against the Hunter. I moved to help, only to have the same happen to me with Castiel.

"Oh, whoa. Okay. I got you." Sam told Chuck.

"I should probably sit down." He said. Sam agreed, and helped him in to a chair.

"You should do the same." Castiel commented. I shook my head, leaning a little to place a hand on the table.

"I'll be fine." I told him, moving away just a little as proof. I could see hurt in Castiel's eyes, though.

"What do we do now?" He asked, turning from me to the others.

Dean paused, thinking for a moment before he strode out of the room. He walked back in a minute later with a six pack of beer, plunking in a chair as he twisted the top off of a bottle.

"Really?" Sam asked.

"Really." Sam shook his head at his brother, disappointed. "What? We hit Amara with everything we got, and she walked it off."

"So... It's last call?" Sam asked, dumbfounded. Dean took a long sip from his beer.

"That's right." He answered. "I'm gonna sit here, drink my beer, get my questions answered," he glared at me. "And wait for the end to come."

"We have to do something!" Sam argued.

"Look, man. If you've got something for me to punch, shoot, or kill, let me know and I'll do it." Dean agreed. "I'll do it till I die. But how are we supposed to fix the friggin' sun?"

I looked around the table for my notes, or some scratch paper and a pen. Dean may be ready to give up, but I was still going to try.

I found some paper, scattered across the floor, but no pen. "Crowley." I requested, holding up a hand. He tossed me a pen from his jacket pocket, and I caught it with ease before beginning to work.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

"Dean asked how in the hell we're going to fix a dying sun." I stated. "So I'm going to try and figure out something, because I can't just sit around and wait for the end."

"No, but you can hide from us for months." Dean stated. "You can go shack up with Crowley and turn full witch on us."

"I feel insulted by that." Crowley commented. I ignored them, and started writing. There had to be something I could do to heal God. If I'd had Metatron's grace still… But I'd used it, and he'd died anyways.

"No, you're not just going to ignore me and be all high-and-mighty." Dean stated, throwing his bottle cap at me. I let it hit me square in the head, and I kept working. "You owe me answers, Kylie. You owe all of us answers."

"If we live, then I'll answer." I stated, my voice biting. What if we tried a massive, like, ice thing or something for the sun?

No, that wouldn't work. That was worse than the magic blimp dust idea. And no protection spell or charm would do anything if the world was dying.

"You're going to answer _now_." Dean argued.

"He's got a point, Kylie." Sam said. "And a very good one. I think you owe some explanations."

"Why?" I asked, looking up. "Why should I?"

"Guys, I feel as though this is about to turn in to a shouting match, and I really think that's not good for my head right now." Chuck commented. Rowena moved to help him, aiding him in leaving the room for a few minutes.

"You left us. You abandoned us with Lucifer and the Darkness, and for what?" Dean asked. "How could you keep that from us, keep you being alive from us?"

"Yeah, and what happened last time I pulled a Lazarus?" I asked. "I show up to what? A demon in the closet, an angel bragging about a bang-and-kill, and you, telling me I can't stay."

"You know why we had to that." Dean argued. "And why I had to have you _AND_ Cas leave."

"You think I'm done?" I asked. "Let's keep going through the history, shall we? Let's look at who almost threw me out a second time for using magic to try and find you," I looked from Dean to Sam. "Plus keep him and Cas safe and healthy."

"Now hold on," Sam tried to interrupt, but I waved a hand at him. I was on a roll now and I was going to keep going.

"And you know what I did?" I asked them. "I did the _exact same thing_ you two do _every single time_ – I chose  life!" I shouted, finally standing up. "I saw Lucifer for Lucifer before either of you did, and he tried to kill me because I **wouldn't betray you two**. I got sent to the **FUCKING ARCTIC CIRLE** , boys, and I was going to **DIE** if I didn't do _**SOMETHING**_. So now you tell me, would have rather me given up and _**DIE**_ ," I swirled around on all of them, glaring at Sam and Dean and even Cas. "Or _live_ , like I did, so I could do everything I could to try and help you guys?"

When nobody answered, I shook my head. "Unbelievable." I said, whirling around on Cas. "And you chose Lucifer." I said, my voice no longer a shout but an icy level just barely above calm. "You asked me to move in with you, to marry you and spend a life together with you. You promised me a life together, but you know what?" I asked him.

"Don't." He begged, his voice quiet.

I went on anyways.

"The apartment is gone, Castiel." I said. "Everything is gone. And I remember how much you hated me using magic, too. I remember the fury when you found out that I saved you, that I would've sacrificed myself to keep you alive. _Now look at me!_ " I raised a hand, and the page I'd been working on burnt to ash. "I am the _thing_ that you hated," I whirled back around to Sam and Dean. "I'm the _monster_ you two would put down without a second's thought, aren't I?"

Their silence was all the confirmation I needed.

"I'm leaving." I told them all, glaring down at every one of them. "Not like you didn't want that anyways. I'm going to leave, after we figure out how to at least _TRY_ to fix the goddamn sun because somehow a **_WITCH_** gives more about this godforsaken planet that Sam and Dean _**fucking**_ __Winchester."

I turned back around to Castiel. He looked like he was torn apart to pieces, like every word I'd said was an angel blade right through his heart.

"Here." I said, my voice softer this time. No matter what, I couldn't bear to see Castiel like that.

"Please don't." He requested one more time.

Then again, I also couldn't bear to stay, and leave him in hope.

I took off the ring quietly, and stared at it for a second before taking his hand and wrapping his fingers around it.

"I… I'm sorry."

I walked out of the room, my footsteps sure and confident until I reached my room. I gathered my things quickly, stuffing them back in the plastic bags they'd come here in. I wanted to make sure I could leave when it was time.

Then I stopped, remembering one more room that was mine.

There was a hidden panel, one that I'd kept secret from everybody in case of an emergency.

I stopped in the room, and used my iron dagger to pry it open. Inside were a few personal things. Some pictures, emergency salt bombs (those went in the bag), and…

And that was my life, before.

That wasn't my life now.

My life now had fire and Latin and demons and dark colors and a cabin in Utah.

That life, the one in the pictures with the apartment, didn't have all of that. She had better. She had better, and had faith that it wouldn't leave her or turn on her or scorn her for making the hard choice.

My life now knew better.

I think the only thing those two lives had in common was a love of books.

I put my stuff back in the other room, leaving behind the things from the secret spot in the old room.

They weren't a part of my life anymore.


	33. Answers To Difficult Questions

I sat with Rowena, Chuck, and Crowley as I worked. It felt as though the Bunker was divided, now. Winchesters (at this point, I'm fairly certain Castiel counted as a Winchester) and others.

"Are you alright, dearie?" Rowena asked me. I answered with a non-committal shrug, which earned me a sigh. "I'll go put the kettle on. Charles, would you like any tea?"

"She's using you." Crowley warned Chuck. "And she's going to try and use you too, Kylie. It's what she does. Find someone with power... cozies up... digs the claws in." The demon walked over to a nearby cabinet, and pulled out a bottle of Craig. "Kylie, you want any?"

I just waved my hand, summoning a total of four glasses to the table. "I'll pass." Chuck told me. One glass floated on back to it's spot. "And in answer to your statement, Crowley, I'm not helping anyone right now, obviously." I saw Chuck shrug out of the corner of my eye. "She's been... nice."

"For now." Crowley reminded him.

"Now's kind of all we got."

"Whatever." Crowley took a seat, pouring two glasses. "I'm not calling you Dad."

I slammed my pen down on the table. "Why am I the only one trying to solve this?" I asked them. Rowena walked back in, and waved a hand at her glass to put it away as well.

"Tea, Kylie?" She offered. I nodded. "What type?"

"What am I offered?"

"I believe this is actually tea that you left here, so it is either green or black." She answered.

I snapped my fingers at the ensemble, and a mug was poured and in front of me as I picked up my pen to resume my work.

"You've gotten used to that, haven't you?" Rowena asked me. I nodded. "It's fun, isn't it?"

"I'm still waiting for an answer." I said, scribbling out my work to try something else. "Chuck, do you mind if I get a read on your power directly? It might help."

"You know it's not going to work, right?" He asked.

"Amara was right, dearie." Rowena added. "You're powerful, immensely so, but… You don't have enough power to stop God from dying. None of us do, separate or together."

"What would any of you guys have me do, then?" I asked. "I don't know what else to do except try to do… Something." I shook my head.

"That out there was definitely something." Crowley commented. I stopped my writing, turning to face him.

"What do you mean?" I asked calmly. Rowena slid her chair back a little bit, cradling her mug close.

"I mean with Sam and Dean and Castiel." Crowley answered point-blank. "And breaking the little squirrel's heart."

"Crowley," I still didn't look up at him. "How attached are you to your suit? Or your drink?" Or your voice?

"We have an agreement." He reminded me.

"If you all are ready to give up, and it truly is the end of the world," I pointed out. "Tell me, do you really think I have the self-control left to care about a deal or my own self-preservation?"

Crowley's face sobered up for a moment, realizing exactly how serious I was. "You don't care." He stated. "You don't care whether you live or die."

"Nope."

"Then why are you still trying to figure out a way to fix this?" Chuck interjected. I took a long drink of Craig, followed by a slow sip of the tea.

"What else am I supposed to do?" I asked him in response. "Tell me, what would you do to fix this?"

"Preferably, I wouldn't be dying." He stated, letting out a hoarse laugh. Rowena rubbed a semi-comforting hand on his arm, earning a gag from Crowley.

"I have to keep trying." I said, shaking my head. "It's… I have nothing left."

"You had Cas." He said softly.

"Just out of curiosity, what did you think?" I asked, looking over at Chuck.

"About what?"

"Me and Castiel." I answered. "When there was a me and him. You said you had questions, but I'm curious, what did you think about it all?"

"Before I answer that," he adjusted how he sat for a moment. "Do you mind if I ask my questions first?"

"It's the end of the world." I stated. "Go for it."

"What do you think of Castiel?"

That was a loaded question. An extremely loaded question.

"I think he's good." I stated first, simply. "He tries consistently to do good, to make good choices, whether he's human or angel. He tries to keep everyone else around him safe and, if possible happy, because he finds it good to do what would make others happy." I thought back to when he'd told me why he wanted to go back for the Gas n Sip job, back to when it was just me and him as two normal humans against the world. "It's a bit of a chaotic good, but that's the humanity in him, because humanity tries to be good, but they're also chaotic."

"Alright." He nodded. "What do you think about the choices he's made?"

"He's made hard choices." I said diplomatically. Chuck just stared, waiting for the truth. "I felt... betrayed, I guess. Like he'd just decided to go and leave me behind, or like he didn't even care for me anymore. He just off and went to save the Winchesters, and I get it, try to save the world too, but..." I shook my head. "I don't know. It's not like that matters, anyways. They've been made." I stated simply. "My opinions on them don't matter."

"Why not?" He asked. "He asked you to marry him. I know he more than likely has put a lot of effort in to listening to your ideas and opinions, and like you said - he tries to keep you safe and happy. Why wouldn't your opinion or thought matter?"

"It didn't seem to matter when it came to telling me what was going on." I answered. "And certainly not when he made his choice."

"Yes, but what did he chose?" Chuck asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, did he chose Lucifer," Chuck explained. "Or did he chose to make a sacrifice in the hopes of saving the world, including you?"

"I think he chose both." I answered honestly. Chuck thought on that for a moment before nodding.

"Do you still want to marry him?"

"I..." The answer should've been easy, obvious; a simple yes or no. I had given him the ring back, even. Pretty clear sign there.

But no matter what I did, I was still in love with the angel.

I wasn't the same person anymore, though. Again, I had given him the ring back, because I couldn't bear to keep it anymore or let him keep believing in that. Things had changed, or at least in my mind they had.

Hell, would he even want to marry me?

"Because I can do it right now." Chuck offered. "I'm God, after all. I'm pretty certain everyone has to respect that. And I'm fairly certain if you talked with him he'd still want to marry you too, even though you gave him back the ring."

"I..." I sighed. "I don't think that it matters, at this point. You're dying, the world is ending," I looked around. "Kind of puts a real cliché on a shotgun wedding, doesn't it?" Chuck just sighed.

"You don't want to, do you?" He asked. I shook my head.

"I don't want to run in to it. It would... It would be as though I hadn't changed any, that I didn't have questions or feel confused about the whole thing." I answered honestly. "I would've liked a chance to figure things out before the world ended, though."

"I can respect that." Chuck said, but his voice was melancholy.

"Why are Nephilim an abomination?" I asked after a few minutes.

"They're not." Chuck answered. I started to speak, to ask more, but he cut me off. "The angels decided that after I left, because they were jealous and... a little angry that I had told them to love man, and afterwards kind of left them in charge. So they decided that they would respect my wishes, but that they were too good to truly be among humans. They decided angels were meant to stay and follow their orders, to watch over and guide and instruct humankind when necessary."

"So, the whole Cordziz Hoath thing..."

"They made it all up, gave it a name to add emphasis." Chuck answered. "Diana, I've had boyfriends and girlfriends and dated the whole spectrum. I couldn't care less."

"So, you don't care that Castiel and I were a thing?"

"I actually was happy about it." He said. "You guys were cuter together than the stupid cats I blogged about."

"Would it be too improper if I were to ask a question?" Rowena chimed in. I turned to glare at her, but didn't say no. "Why did you give him back the ring?"

I sat for a few moments, thinking on it. "Because I love him." I finally answered. "And I know where his loyalties lie. Sam and Dean currently look at me like some bad monster they're supposed to kill later, and they're the only family Castiel has." I turned to Chuck quickly. "No offense."

"None taken." He assured me. I returned to speaking to Rowena.

"I can't be the person in the way of all that, much less the person he wanted to marry." I finally said. "I love him, but I can't do this to him. I can't put him in that position, nor can I keep giving him false hope that everything will work itself out by wearing it. I don't want to go back to how I was." I shrugged, and my tea was refilled to a perfect temperature. "There's so much I want to try and do or learn and figure out and…" I shook my head. "I kind of understand why most witches stay among other witches, now."

"Just don't do what mother did." Crowley advised. "Don't run off on your family."

"You did fine without me!" Rowena argued. Suddenly she smiled, as though remembering something happy, before turning to Chuck. "Actually, my Fergus was bright. Walked before his first birthday, but he hated pants. Hated them." I cast Crowley a sideways glance. He looked like he wanted to die on the spot. "He'd run 'round the village, his wee banger just flapping in the breeze."

Chuck let out a small sigh. "Adam and Eve were the same way."

"Kids." The pair said simultaneously. "Kids."

"Quit whatever work you're doing to fix this, Kylie." Crowley requested. "I'm so glad the world is ending."

I felt more than saw Sam walk in behind me, but Crowley raised a glass to him anyways. "Samantha!" He greeted.

"What…" I turned my head a little, and saw Sam look around in confusion. "What are we doing?"

"Nothing." Rowena answered.

"Exactly." Sam said, his voice rising. "Amara's out there eating the freaking sun, and… And we're doing nothing."

"And you have a better idea?" Crowley asked.

"Yes. Anything." Sam replied. "That's my better idea, because anything is better than this."

"I'm working out ideas, but they're not going to work." I stated blatantly, holding up a crumpled piece of paper before I let it go. The page folded itself in to a little sun, like origami, before burning to ash.

"Look, Sam, I get it." Chuck said. "But even if we could lock Amara away, it wouldn't do any good now. I'm dying. And when I'm gone, a cosmic balance between light and dark… It's over."

Sam stood at the head of the table, surveying us all for a moment. "All right." He slammed a fist down on the table, spilling my drinks. "Then if we can't cage her, we have to kill her."

"Bingo." Crowley agreed.

I thought on that for a moment. A spell that could kill Amara…

I ran back to my room. I had my laptop in there, and it still had the Book of the Damned downloaded and decrypted on it. Something from there might just work.

Sam made a call to Dean, apparently summoning him and Castiel back to the Bunker. When they got back, Dean had questions.

"Wait, so now you want to kill the Darkness?" He asked. "You're all cool with this? 'Cause, you know, last time..." He reminded us.

"Look, Chuck's dying." Sam argued, casting a sideways glance at the guy. "Uh, no offense, God."

Chuck just let out a huff of air. "Yeah, no, I… I'm dying." He agreed. "So, we don't really have a choice. I mean, look. You… You've got darkness and light." He explained. I was already working on a few new ideas with that balance in mind, reading from the book as I did so. "You… You take one side away and… And…"

Castiel finished his sentence. "It upsets the scales." He looked at each of us in turn. "The whole balance of the universe."

"Exactly." Sam agreed. "But you take both away, and now both sides of the scale are empty, so..."

"Of course." Castiel nodded. "It's balanced."

"Right. Yes. Okay. Uh," Dean looked around, slightly confused and unsure. "And look. Hey, I'm game, but how exactly are we gonna do this? I mean, Lucifer hit her with a… A Hand of God, and, well, we saw how that turned out."

We were all there, save for Chuck. We all remembered. "Yeah." I agreed.

"She does seem impossible to destroy." Castiel added, glancing at me.

"Right." I thought for a moment before turning to Chuck.

"Is she?" I asked him

Chuck let out a sigh. "Well, I... I mean, well..." He shook his head. "I... I… I…"

"Chuck!" We all shouted at him, save for Rowena, who apparently preferred "Charles."

"All right! Fine!" He conceded. "The Darkness might, might have a weakness…" Chuck rose from his seat, moving over to pluck the bottle of Craig from Crowley's hands. "Light." He stated simply.

"He tells us now." Crowley muttered sarcastically.

"What?" Chuck asked. "I… I just wanted to trap her. I didn't want to murder her."

I ran a search for any spells involving light in the Book. Multiple possibilities. I was going to need to narrow it down.

"Okay, but now that we're trying to end her, how much light are we talking about?" Sam asked. I looked up at Chuck expectantly. That would help narrow the parameters.

"I don't know." Chuck admitted, thinking for a moment. "10,000 suns, set to supernova."

Powerful. Very very very powerful, or at least the possibility to be that. Some way to store it all, perhaps?

"Well, you… you're God." Dean said. "So, just God them up."

"Look at me." Chuck motioned down to himself, setting the bottle of Craig on the table and out of Crowley's reach. "I'm... Not in the best shape right now."

"Okay. Uh, that's all right." Dean said. I narrowed the parameters more, looking for something that could store massive amounts of power involving light. Not as many possibilities, but I probably needed to narrow it down further. "Uh, we just need other ideas. Um...Rowena." Sam turned to the elder witch. "What about the Book of the Damned?"

Rowena scoffed. "This is beyond..." She started to say, but I interrupted her.

"I'm already going through it right now." I spun my laptop around for them to see. "I need a few more parameters, though, so I can have a maximum of three to five good possibilities."

"How did you get that?" Rowena inquired, reaching for the laptop. I swirled it back around to me. When she reached out a hand to short-circuit it, I spilled her tea in to her lap.

"Memory day." I answered. "Very useful. I took pictures and put it back as it was."

"But I had it locked up!"

"I know."

"Okay," Sam said, interrupting us. "Good… Good work, Kylie." He turned to the demon. "Crowley?"

"Oh, I got nothing."

"Well, what about souls?" Castiel asked. "They fuel your demon deals. Souls are living batteries. They're full of energy. They're full of light. Each one is as powerful as...100 suns?"

"He… He's not wrong." Rowena stated, finished cleaning off her clothes. "Kylie," I interrupted her a second time.

"Already adding that in to the parameters. Something to hold approximately 100 souls, minimum."

"Set to supernova." Chuck reminded me. I reset the parameters on the souls, and scratched out some more math on paper.

"That's a lot of souls." I finally said.

"Okay, so if we got this kind of juice, then what?" Dean asked.

"You get us enough souls and..." She looked at me, waiting for me to say something.

I got a ding. A spell. Something that would definitely work.

"We can build a bomb." I said, reading over that spell. "A very big, very powerful bomb."

Dean turned to Chuck. "Would that do the trick?" He asked.

"Uh...maybe."

"All right. Plan B." Sam agreed, rubbing his hands together.

"Okay. How many souls are we talking here?" Dean asked, looking from me to Rowena.

"Well, a sun set on supernova is at least ten billion times brighter than a normal one," I started, double-checking my math. "So, that's 100,000 times ten billion," I scratched it out one more time. "Divided by 100, and the minimum number is," Rowena interrupted me this time.

"The more the better." She summed up. Crowley moved to take a look at my math for a moment before whistling.

"Even if you could get that kind of firepower... You really think it would work?" He asked.

"I can ask the angels." Castiel offered. "Heaven is full of souls."

"Okay. Uh, what else we got?" Sam asked.

"Ghosts." Dean offered. "Well, they're just souls with baggage, right?"

"Yeah, but we would need a whole lot of them." Sam reminded him. Dean thought for a moment before coming up with an answer.

"Waverly Hills."

Sam chuckled at that. "Waverly Hills Sanatorium." He said. "Of course. Thousands died there."

"Ton of ghosts." Dean agreed.

"This is desperate." Crowley stated. "And stupid."

"Well, desperate and stupid's pretty much all we got right now, so..." Dean reminded him.

"Fine." Crowley took a seat next to me, propping his feet on the table. "I'll go raid Hell and see what's left."

"All right." Sam clapped his hands. "Let's get to work."

I wrote down the instructions, going over it with Rowena. "You got any amethyst?" I asked her. She rooted around in a pocket for a moment before pulling one out. "Great."

"Can we make the magic word 'haggis?'" She asked. I shrugged.

"Why?"

"The world is ending, dearie." She reminded me. "What's wrong with having a little fun at the boy's expense? Besides, imagine the looks on their faces, all serious and brooding, and they have to say 'haggis' to make the ghosts go away!"

I smiled at that. "Alright. Haggis it is."


	34. Soul Bomb

When the brothers came back, I asked them to hand me the stone. They did, albeit hesitantly, and I could feel that it wasn't enough.

"Castiel, Crowley, what about souls on your ends?" I asked them, looking up hopefully. Castiel was the first to answer.

"The angels are…" He took a deep breath. "Heaven won't help."

"They know that this is the end, right?" Dean asked. "Of everything."

"Yes."

"And they don't care?" Sam asked.

"No, it's not that. It's..." Castiel let out a sigh. "They know… They know God is dying and they don't think we can win this." He glanced over at me. "Souls or no souls. They're sealing Heaven, and they're 'dying with dignity.'"

"Well, that's awesome." Dean muttered.

"Crowley?" I asked, hoping he would have something.

"Well, I had all the souls we needed," he began.

"What do you mean 'had?'" Dean interrupted.

"While I was indisposed, and afterwards training Kylie," the demon explained. "A few of my demonic pals decided to raid my stash."

"This isn't going to be enough." I said, thinking. Maybe something Billie had taught me could help?

Almost as if on cue, the Bunker went crazy, electricity buzzing and red lights going off like silent sirens.

"Well, that could be nothing but good news." Crowley commented dryly. Castiel flicked his wrist, an angel blade falling neatly in to his hands as Sam and Dean pulled out their guns. I felt for a presence, and when I could hear the footsteps I smiled.

"Put them away." I said, advancing towards the stairs. "It's a friend."

Billie walked down the stairs calmly, as though the world wasn't about to end. "Kylie, or is it Diana now?" She asked. "In any case, it's great to see you again. And," she took a second to look about the room. "Nice digs." She commented.

"Billie?" Sam asked.

"Who's Billie?" Rowena questioned, looking from me to Sam.

"Reaper." Dean answered, his voice stoic. "Wants us dead. Tons of fun."

"She's an ally." I corrected, smiling at the Reaper. Billie walked past Crowley, muttering a hello as she did, until she stood at the table with us.

"Wait a second," Sam said. "How did you… What are you doing here?"

"I saw you boys at Waverly Hills," Billie answered. "And call me a curious kitten, but with, you know, credits about to roll, I gotta ask… Why you boys busting ghosts?"

"Why do you care?" Dean asked.

"Dead folks – kind of my thing." She reminded him. "So... spill."

"We're making a soul bomb." I explained. "To kill Amara."

Everybody took a glance at the stone in my hand, just barely glowing.

"Okay." Billie said.

"Okay?" Sam asked. "Uh, w-what does that mean, 'okay?'" Before she could respond, he turned to me. "What does she mean by 'okay?'"

"Means way things are going, I'm about an hour away from reaping God himself." Billie replied, regaining Sam's attention as she motioned to Chuck.

"So you're here to help us?" Castiel asked.

"Little tip… you want souls, call a reaper." She answered, turning to me. "And personally, I almost feel a little hurt that you didn't call me the second the topic came up."

"You wanted to stay as neutral as possible." I reminded her. "I didn't want to drag you in to this and paint a target on your back."

"God is dying." She stated. "And the Darkness is going to destroy everything else. I think we're past the point of neutrality."

I handed her the stone without another word, and she focused on it for a moment. When nothing happened, Dean spoke up.

"Well, this is exciting." He commented.

"A little help, Kylie?" She asked. I nodded, focusing for a minute. I needed to open a small crack in the Veil, if only for a moment.

"Aperiam ianua leti." I will open the door to death.

Suddenly streams of light filled the room, coming from all directions with one destination in mind – the stone. Billie pulled them in, giving them no choice but to be a part of it. Once they were done, I closed the crack quickly, and ensured it was sealed tightly.

"How many souls are in there?" Billie asked.

"A couple hundred... thousand." She answered with a smirk. "We raided The Veil." She gave me an appreciative nod. "Like I said, dead folks — kind of my thing." Billie turned to me and Rowena, handing me the stone. "We good?"

I could feel the power in it, the power of hundreds of thousands of pent up souls all being pressurized to blow from a single, physical point. I nodded, handing it to Rowena for her inspection. After a few moments, she answered. "Very."

"Super." Billie responded, turning to leave. "Don't be a stranger, Kylie!"

"See you around." Dean called after her.

"Yeah. You will. Just hope it's not today." She replied, and I could tell that she honestly meant it. Then she looked over her shoulder at Crowley, offering him a small smirk. "Crowley." She said.

Then she was gone, just like that.

Crowley smirked triumphantly for a few moments before realizing we were all staring at him. He looked a little abashed, then, and I could swear I saw his cheeks almost turn red.

"You'll tell me later, right?" I asked him.

If he'd thought he wanted to die when Rowena was flirting with God, this probably solidified the notion for a moment.

"So, what now?" Castiel asked nobody in particular.

"Well, now we have the bomb, so we just got to find Amara." Dean stated, as if it were that easy.

"I can track her." Chuck offered. "She's not warded anymore. Why would she be?" He let out a short laugh. "She won."

"I can help you if you need it." I offered him. He nodded gratefully.

"Okay, so what else?" Dean asked.

"We need somebody to get close to her, someone with a... personal connection." Castiel reminded us.

We couldn't help it. We all looked towards Dean. He was the most logical candidate, after all.

He took it in stride, though. "Well, what are we waiting for? How do I smuggle this thing?"

"We could always shove it up your," Crowley began to offer, but Dean cut him off quickly with a sharp "hey!" "I mean, you could." The demon muttered.

I shook my head. This was what I hadn't told any of them about the bomb.

"You won't carry the bomb." I said, hearing the sorrow in my own voice. "You'll be the bomb. Me and Rowena have to put the stone inside you, in your chest." Rowena knew about this. She took a step forwards, placing her one hand exactly where I meant.

"Once you get close to her, you press your fingers together like so." Rowena explained, pressing her index finger and thumb together.

"And then it's done." I finished.

"Is this your version of payback, Kylie?" Sam asked, enraged and distressed. "Blowing up my brother? We took you in! We fed you and taught you everything! Hell, we introduced you to Cas!"

"Okay." Dean said softly. Sam whipped around, his hair flying as he turned to face his brother.

"Okay?" Sam asked. "What do you mean, okay?!"

"I mean it's the only option we have." He answered. "So, okay. I'll do it."

From his own seat in the room, Chuck let out a quiet, defeated sigh. It must be a painful thing, for God to watch his creations kill his own sister, who sentenced him to die, so that they can preserve his creation.

I only wished that there was a way to save him.


	35. Oblitus Et Suppono

I finished casting the spell on Dean with ease, placing the bomb inside of his chest. Once I was done, he doubled over, as if he was in excruciating pain.

The guy had thousands upon thousands of souls in a rock in his chest.

Quite frankly, I was impressed he didn't let out some sort of scream.

"Dean, are you okay?" Castiel asked, hurrying towards him. "How do you feel?"

"Like my insides just got flame-broiled." He answered. "Is that normal?"

"Sweetie, we're so far past normal." Rowena told him, shaking her head.

"You've got about an hour, maybe a little longer, before that thing blows on its own." I told him. "I'll get you to Amara." I held out a hand to touch his shoulder, but he moved away quickly.

"Wait, wait, wait." He said, holding up his hands. "Can I…" He thought about his request. "Can I do something first?"

"What is it?"

"I want to go by my mom's grave, one last time." He answered. I looked over at Chuck.

"Your sister. Your call." I said. He thought for a moment, then nodded.

We drove to the grave. It wasn't far away, not far at all. Rowena, Crowley, and I kept our distance, leaving the others to talk and reminisce one last time.

"I hate to say I told you so," Rowena said. "But I told you so."

"What do you mean?"

"Men always let you down in the end." She reminded me, motioning to Castiel.

I shook my head. "We let each other down." I corrected her, thinking for a while.

After a few beats, Crowley spoke up. "You know he's not going to just leave this be, right?" He asked. "The angel is besotted with you. If you leave, he won't stop looking. If you stay, he won't stop asking. He still believes that you two can still have a happy future together."

"What makes you say that?"

"He keeps glancing over here at you, first off." Crowley stated. Once he said that, I could see it, see Castiel casting a sideways glance over at me. "Secondly, the ring you gave back to him, it's in his left jacket pocket. He's been fiddling with it intermittently ever since it returned to his possession." Sure enough, Cas reached a hand in to his left pocket, and I could faintly see the outline of his hand twirling something around. "Thirdly, whenever you would speak, or work, or in general weren't paying attention to you, he would watch and smile for a moment, like he was looking at something nice."

I didn't respond, just letting that all sink in for a moment. Truth be told, I hadn't even expected to live past today. I wasn't 100% certain yet that Dean would succeed.

"So, what do you plan to do?" He asked.

"He needs to move on." I said. "There will be other important things coming. Lucifer, for example, we don't know what happened to him. Other stuff will come up, and he'll have to focus on that. Plus…" I shook my head. "I can't keep hurting him like this."

"So what are you going to do?"

Chuck waved me over before I could answer. It was time to beam Dean off to confront Amara. I saw Sam's eyes shining with tears as he watched me.

I took a glance at Dean, a plan forming. He wasn't wearing the necklace.

Good.

I placed my hand on his forehead, thinking about when I first met them, about every day I'd spent with them.

" _Oblitus et suppono_." I whispered. His eyes blanked for just a moment, and then he was gone.

Forgotten and forgone.

With the skin-to-skin contact in place of blood, and the angelic grace within me, I didn't need any herbs or other things to do as Rowena had taught me.

Dean wouldn't remember me existing past my "death," not that it mattered anyways. His brain would fill it in with other memories, whatever was needed to supplement the questions he may have.

It would be as if I was never here for any of this, to him.

I just had to do that to two or three more people.

"What did you say?" Sam asked, sniffling slightly. "I heard you say something, before Dean left." I hardened my emotions, turning to him with my best poker face.

"I had to transport him without me being there to protect him from molecular destruction." I answered. "Loosely, what I said translates in to 'safe passage.'"

"You killed him." Was all that Sam said in response. "You just sent him on a suicide run, and all you could do was offer him safe passage there? Not a way for him to survive this?!"

"What else do you want from me, Sam?"

"I want my brother to live!"

"I can't do that, Sam." I reminded him. "The bomb has to go off."

He didn't answer, just stalked past me towards the Impala. Castiel followed only after the briefest hesitation.

"You lied." Chuck stated. I shrugged, not looking over at him.

"If they remember, they'll hate me." I said. "And if Castiel…" I shook my head. "I can't do that to them, to any of them."

"Why not just make them forget you permanently?" Chuck posed.

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because they were the only family I had. They felt guilty for my death, and that guilt is a part of the reason that they hate me now." I answered. "But if I'm still dead, then they can move on from it, and keep fighting the good fight."

"Alright." Chuck said. No judgement as to whether my actions were right or wrong, just an acceptance of them happening.

I helped him walk back to the car, and loaded him in to the shotgun seat. We pulled up to a closed bar, easily gaining access as we drank away the end of the world.

 _I need a favor._ I thought towards Crowley as I poured us drinks. His eyes flicked towards me for maybe a moment before he gazed in to his drink.

 _What?_

 _They're going to forget I was ever involved._ I explained. _They won't remember me past me dying._

 _Am I to forget as well?_

 _No._

 _I feel so special._

 _Don't give me away._ I requested. _Don't tell them I'm still alive._

 _Is this your answer to the question I posed earlier?_

 _Yes._

 _Fine._

I reached for two beers, popping them open before I poured them in to tall glasses. " _Oblitus et suppono_." I whispered, spitting in to both drinks.

When Sam and Cas drank their glasses, they wouldn't remember my involvement either. I'd just be dead.

I brought them over to the boys without difficulty, handing one to each. Sam just stared at it for a while, not drinking yet.

"Kylie," Castiel said, catching my hand. "Wait, just… Wait."

"What's up?" I asked.

"I can't keep this." He pulled the ring back out of his pocket. When I shook my head, he pushed it towards me. "I love you, and I'm not going to stop." He said. "I don't care that you're a witch, I don't care what you chose, and I understand why you said what you did. But I can't just give up. I thought I'd lost you, Kylie." He took my hand and placed the ring in it. "I'm not asking for you to agree to marry me again. All I'm asking is that you… Don't cut me out from your life. I told you, a life without you, to me, isn't one worth being in."

Please don't do this to me, Cas.

Cas, please.

Please don't.

Cas.

"I understand if that's not what you want." He said. "But I wanted to at least try."

"Cas, I," he smiled, stopping me as I pushed my hand back towards him.

"I gave that to you, willingly. I will always be here for you, if you will allow me to do so." He said. "Please, keep it, as a reminder."

He let go of my hand, reaching to grasp his drink. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam do the same thing.

I moved away quickly, moving to stand in front of Rowena. I placed my other hand on her arm quickly, earning her attention.

" _Oblitus et suppono_." I whispered. She stared at me in shock for only a moment until her eyes blanked.

I only had ten seconds.

"I'm sorry." I said to Cas. His eyes were already blanked out. I put the ring back in his hand, clasping his fingers around it. "I'm so sorry."

I was gone in an instant, back at the cabin in Utah.

I walked outside, as calm and composed as I could, and watched the sun. When everything went back to normal, I finally let myself cry.

Dean was dead. I had sent him to his death.

Sam would've hated me if he remember me past my death.

Cas… Cas had tried, and now he wouldn't remember me being alive either.

The only people left that knew I was alive were Chuck and Crowley.

Crowley showed up not long afterwards. "I thought I would find you here." He said. "Do you regret what you've done?"

"No." I lied. Of course I regretted this. I probably wouldn't stop for a long while. But even then, it was the right choice. I knew it was.

Making a hard choice to help the others.

I hated how life could come to full circle like that.

"Sam and Cas headed back to the Bunker." Crowley informed me. "They drank a round for Dean, and another for you."

"Are they okay?"

"They will be." Crowley assured me.

A demon, assuring a witch that her former fiancé and one of his two best friends would be alright.

"Thank you."

"You've had to make a lot of hard choices." Crowley stated. "Feel free to use the cabin whenever you need to. It would be a shame for you to go back to homelessness now."

"Why are you being kind to me?" I asked. "You're a demon. Demons aren't kind."

"Always protect your assets." Crowley reminded me.

Then he disappeared as well, and I was left alone.

The only person I had left was a demon.


	36. One More Difficult Choice

Two weeks later, I once again donned my disguise. I had made a promise to someone, after all, and I was going to keep it.

Mrs. Tran was still at her same address, thankfully. I knocked on her door, taking one last look down at myself.

I had new clothes, ones that would be acceptable and not so witchy/gothic looking. In all honesty, I looked kind of like a… a normal person.

She opened it quietly, confused at the stranger standing before her. "Yes? Who are you?"

"Mrs. Tran?" I had to keep up the appearance that I didn't know her. When she nodded, I continued. "May I please come in? I have something I need to tell you, from Kevin."

"What do you know about my son?" She asked, seething slightly.

"I know why his spirit is no longer around you." I said. "And I know he got to see Kylie one last time." I fidgeted with my fingers, suddenly very uncertain. "Please, I promise I won't do anything to harm you, but is it ok if I come inside?"

"You promise you'll tell me everything about Kevin? And Kylie?" She asked. I nodded, and she stepped aside to let me in.

I hadn't ever been to Mrs. Tran's house before, I just knew the address from Kevin ("In case of an emergency," he'd told me.). It was a nice house. Simple. Quaint. There were a couple pictures of a young Kevin up on a mantle, followed by one of him performing at a cello concert, one of him graduating high school, and another of a college acceptance letter.

One he'd never gotten to go to.

I took a seat on the couch, feeling extremely nervous. "Mrs. Tran," I started. "What I tell you, I need you to believe."

"How did you know my son?" She asked first.

"We were both in a bad situation." I said vaguely. "And helped each other out. He was my best friend."

"What's your name?" She asked. "I know the names of all of his best friends. What's yours?"

"I go by Diana." I answered. Then I made a decision, an irrational and spontaneous decision that I had to make.

I dropped the disguise as I sat in front of her. "But that's just a pseudonym." I finished, watching as her eyes went wide.

"They told me you were dead." She whispered, reaching a hand out to touch me.

"I know."

"Do they know you're alive?" She asked. "Your engagement to Castiel, your life with them, do they know?"

I shook my head. "And they can't know." I said firmly, grasping her hand. She held it just as hard, and I could see tears coming to her eyes. "Please, Mrs. Tran. I don't have anywhere left. Things got bad, they go so bad," I started crying again, and she just put an arm around me and held me close as I explained everything.

I explained about Lucifer and Amara, God and Kevin and the sun ("I knew it involved those boys!"), the Winchesters hating me for what I've done, having to make them forget so they wouldn't be torn apart.

I just cried and told her everything.

I missed her. I missed being able to talk with someone and tell them everything and just, for a moment, not worry because she was a mom, and moms can fix everything.

Moms can fix everything, right?

Afterwards, I stifled my tears. "So, that's the gist of it." I said. "And I promised Kevin I would be here and I wasn't planning on telling you I was alive but I couldn't help it because I'm just… I'm tired, Mrs. Tran. I'm tired and done and just…" I shook my head. "I don't know what else to do."

"Well, you're here now." She said. "And you've given me more than I could have asked for. You're free to stay with me as long as you'd like."

"You…" I took a breath. "You won't tell them, right?"

"I want to." She admitted honestly. "But not if you don't want me to."

"Thank you."

"It's no problem, sweetheart." She gave me a tight hug. "Hell, if those boys are going to be such assholes, maybe you don't need them in your life right now."

We sat and chatted for the rest of the day. She asked about my magic and what I could do. I showed her, smiling as I cleaned her kitchen without lifting a finger, lit her fireplace, and told her exactly what she was thinking.

I was afraid, at first, that she would be terrified or shun me for it. I knew that the last time Mrs. Tran had had a witch around (I didn't even know that there were Craigslist witches before), it hadn't gone too well. But she actually enjoyed what I could do, enjoyed watching and hearing me explain it.

When I sat down and showed her the math and calculations for some stuff I'd cooked up myself, she looked like a proud parent. I glanced over for a moment, my mouth moving rapid-fire as I explained the dynamics of the ingredient balance in correlation with their specific purpose matched with the symbols (this was my nerd-out), I stopped.

She was crying.

"What? Did I do something wrong?" I asked, putting it all away quickly. She shook her head.

"No, no, you're… You're doing everything so well." She said. "Kevin… Whenever he was growing up, he'd show me what he was doing and working on with music or math or science or whatever he was interested in. He always enjoyed it, too. He would have that same look in his eyes that you do now." She smiled. "Like he had everything figured out, and everything made sense, and he was just so excited to show it to me when he had it." She let out a slightly shaky breath. "I wish you two had been able to go to college." She told me. "I think you both would've been brilliant."

"Thank you."

"You still could, if you wanted to." She offered. I was about to answer, but my phone rang. Caller ID said Crowley.

"Is it alright if I take this?" I asked. She nodded.

"Of course."

I moved away from her a little bit, and answered. "What?"

"Oh, good. I was afraid you were dead, or wallowing in drunk self-pity."

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Do you want a job?" He offered.

"Doing what?"

"Rooting out some leftover Lucifer loyalists." He answered. "Since the world hasn't ended, they're starting to be a pain in my ass."

"Why would I do that?" I asked.

"Because you have nothing left to do, and you know you can't disappear in to a normal life as Mrs. Tran's new daughter." I sat up straight, moving to the window. I glanced outside and saw Crowley, sitting on a bench across the street. He smiled and waggled his fingers at me. "Relax, I'm not threatening you. But you dropped the disguise, and if I can find you than others could."

"What's the offer?" I asked. I knew his moves by now. I knew he would have a deal.

"I call, you go hunt Loyalists, and in return," he thought for a moment. "Protection for you and Mrs. Tran, in case any of your work follows you back. Plus, Mrs. Tran will find her bank account steadily increasing, in case of a rainy day."

I glanced over at Mrs. Tran, who was examining what I'd written down closely, running a finger along different parts with that same small smile.

"How can you offer her protection?" I asked, my voice a low whisper. "You don't even have Hell."

"It doesn't mean I still can't pull a few strings." He answered. "Besides, you know you can't stay and pretend to be normal, not anymore." I looked down at my hand. "You can summon magic and wield it at your will, and more so you enjoy it." I looked back over at him. "How can you turn away from it, when it's the reason you left Sam and Castiel?"

I didn't answer, just thought for a bit.

"I'm texting you the information now." He said. Sure enough, my phone buzzed a second later. "Think it over. I'll even draw up a new contract, if you'd like."

Then the line went dead.

I pocketed my phone, and took a seat next to Mrs. Tran. "Who was that?" She asked.

"Just a telemarketer, trying to sell me some sort of cruise around Croatia." I lied. I knew she had no love for the demon, and quite frankly I couldn't blame her.

"So, what do you think?" She asked. "College? You could do it. I'll even help you with the applications."

"I don't even have my GED, Mrs. Tran." I told her. "I had to…. leave, before I could get it or graduate."

"I'm sure we can figure out something." She assured me. "And it's only if you want to, I don't want to pressure you in to doing anything you wouldn't want to do. I just think that you would prosper well in the environment." She patted my shoulder, standing up. "I'm going to go get us some drinks. Do you want water or soda or tea?"

"Water." I answered.

"Alright. And you don't have to answer now." Mrs. Tran told me. "You can think on it all you want."

"Thank you."

She moved to the kitchen to get two glasses of water, and I just stared at my notes and thought.

College or Loyalist hunting? Getting out, or getting payback?

I took a glance at my phone. It still showed I had one unread message from Crowley. Up on the mantle, Kevin's college acceptance letter.

Mine could be up there too, if I wanted it to be.

Then again, I could keep up the good fight, find a way to help out the world without Sam or Cas ever knowing about it.

Mrs. Tran returned, placing a cold glass of water in front of me. "You look like you're deep in thought." She commented. "What're you thinking about?"

I wasn't certain how to answer that question.


	37. Hey, It's WriKai

**Hey everyone! Thanks for bearing with me on this longer installment (I think it turned out pretty well!), and thank you again to everyone who messaged me with support and thoughts and questions.**

 **I've put up a poll for the name of the next installment, because I personally really liked how the last one went. Feel free to shoot me a message, as always, if you've got your own idea as well that you think would be worth hearing, I always love different input.**

 **Sadly, I'm going to take a short break from writing these until this season of SPN is a little farther along, so that I've got a better base idea of how I want to do this. I've already got a few in the works, no worries, but I want to weigh them out before I start putting it out here for you guys. You guys are awesome, so I don't want to put out a crappy half-thought-out story when you all deserve so much better.**

 **Thanks again so much for everything! I wouldn't be doing this without you guys!**

 **-WriKai**


	38. Update On Publishing

**Hey guys! Still WriKai! I know I haven't been publishing for a while, been busy with a mix of work and college, however I am happy to say that I will be publishing my next installment on this series either by the end of this month or the start of the next.**

 **There is still a poll open as to what to name the new "book," feel free to vote for your favorite two or if you have your own ideas message them to me. If I use it I will make sure to credit you with the title name and I'll also probably be pretty stoked. I still love hearing new ideas and input.**

 **And going off of the ideas and input, here's a sneak peek at the first chapter of the new installment. Feel free to shoot me a message with what you think of it as well!**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

I saw that blinding flash, and in an instant I went from being at Sam's side to being… Not there. Somewhere else. Somewhere far away.

When I landed, I could only think three words. _I failed. Again._

I had just failed Sam, failed being the support he needed. I failed Dean, failed the last promise I had ever made to him. I failed Kylie, failed the woman I wanted to marry, and now…

Two out of three of those failures had concluded in death.

This most recent looked like it may end up the same as well.

I was an angel, not one with a predisposition to foul language, but at the moment I couldn't help but feel the urge to swear like Dean and Sam did, or like Kylie... Like Kylie had used to.

 _Castiel, relax. You got this._ Kylie's voice, clear as a bell inside my head. I didn't even remember what we were doing, just that she had been so confident and sure that she could handle it.

Where was she now? What had that confidence, that belief in me, gotten her?

 _I got this._ I'd agreed, nodding. I remembered now. We were… We were in a bar together, homeless, just me and her. She was trying to teach me how to pick pockets.

I'd failed miserably, earning a punch to the face instead of the cash we'd so desperately needed.

 _I don't got this._ I'd told her afterwards, cradling a bruised cheek. She'd checked it out, keeping one eye on the guy I'd just failed to pickpocket.

She'd had a plan, of course. At the time, when I was still learning, it seemed as though she always had a plan for everything, always had a fallback option in place. _Follow my lead, and go wait outside after I do this._

 _After you do what?_ I'd asked her. She just smirked for a moment before putting on her best angry face. She shouted at me, called me a jerk, slapped me, and told me to get out of her face. Ten minutes later she met me outside with over 100 dollars.

 _Bad good Samaritans_. She'd explained. _Guys that are always eager to jump and play the hero, just so they can jump in your pants. They also just so happen to love flashing cash when they buy you drinks, and tend to carry a lot of it._

A bad good Samaritan. That was what she called it.

A truck pulled up, asking if I needed assistance. The man seemed nice, kind. Not flashing any cash.

 _And when I can't get a bad good Samaritan,_ Kylie had continued, sitting on the curb next to me. She pulled my hand along, and we walked over to a nearby busy street. Kylie shoved the cash back in her pocket, and rooted around in her pack until she found what she was looking for. An old piece of beat-up cardboard, with a few words written on it. **Homeless and starving. Anything helps. God bless.** _I'll get a God-fearing one._

We had cheap takeout, apples, a few granola bars, and a couple extra bucks in cash within an hour or two.

I told the man with the truck where I needed to go, Lebanon, Kansas. He nodded, and I got in his truck.

 _You got this_. Kylie's voice again, so reassuring, in the back of my mind.

 _I got this,_ I agreed. _I won't fail this time. I can fix this._


	39. Next Installment Name

**Just put up the first chapter in the new part - Glinda Ain't Got Nothing On Me! Hope you all like it!**

 **-WriKai**


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